Shadows Of Loki
by Rue and SneakWriter
Summary: After falling from Asgard, Loki chooses a different path and returns to his family; but when timelines deviate and parallel realities converge, he finds himself stranded in the future, where he must struggle to regain what he has lost. Post-Avengers, pre-TDW.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fic is for Nako13yeh, based on a time-travel plot bunny of hers 8). I hope you like it!**

_I want to go home_.

My bones ached. My belly was in revolt again, refusing to accept the meagre nutrients that had been injected into it, and my throat was sore from dry-heaving. I longed for a clean, unpolluted drink to rinse out my mouth and cleanse my system, but even that was denied me – there was no water on this barren rock. All I could do was curl up, moaning, and wait for the sickness to pass.

I'd fallen. Through darkness and light, through freezing colds and scorching heats, through turbulent vapours and suffocating voids, I'd fallen – and somehow, _I'd survived_. Driven not by any meaningful design, but by hunger and fear, I'd wandered from one world to the next, past suns and moons, past oceans of fire and cryovolcanic geysers of ice. The universe in all its terrifying hostility and incalculable vastness had swallowed me whole – and now here I was, curled up on the stony ground of an alien world, shivering and retching.

_I want to go home_.

It felt like an eternity since I'd been stranded on this rock. Despite its desolation, it crawled with alien life. Foul, hideously misshapen creatures of dubious intelligence, spat from the robotic belly of a mothership, but life nonetheless. _The Chitauri_, they called themselves. They were my caregivers, my saviours, my only friends. I detested them.

They'd promised to nurse me back to health, but instead I could feel my strength draining from me. Sometimes I lost consciousness and didn't regain it for hours. Sometimes I coughed up blood. Headaches and dizziness were persistent. Worst was the cold: a gnawing, penetrating chill that seeped into my marrow, leaving me feeble. Slowly but surely, this place was killing me.

As I grew weaker and weaker, the golden sceptre grew brighter and brighter. The blue gem nestled in its heart called to me, inviting my fingertips to caress its every contour, to drink in its deadly design, to feel its power pulsing as if it were a living thing. _Touch. Feel. Hold_. I craved it…yet I also feared it. It was an object to admire from a safe distance, but not to wield. Its magic was beyond me – a weapon that even I couldn't understand, let alone control.

And slowly but surely, it was consuming me.

Yet what could I do? I had nowhere to go – nowhere but home, and that was out of the question. All of Asgard was my enemy. To go crawling back to my not-father and my idiot brother, begging their forgiveness and help…My pride forbade me. _Better to reject than to be rejected_. There was no point in entertaining vain hopes of love and acceptance.

_But…still…I want to go home_.

My stomach settled somewhat. Drawing my green rags tighter around myself for warmth, I tried my hardest to numb myself to my misery and push my surroundings out of my head. It was impossible.

I wondered bitterly if they even _cared_ that I was dead. If they'd bothered to give funeral rites to their lost not-son. If my books, my clothes, the sediment of my failed life had been preserved as keepsakes, and statues erected in my honour. Or had my library been burned, my bed-chambers emptied out, all evidence of my existence erased and all recollections of me swept under the carpet? A shameful blot on an otherwise pristine family portrait?

Who _would've_ mourned me? Thor? Oafish and insensitive he may have been, but _he_ at least had always loved me. Whenever we'd quarrelled in the past, he'd always been the first one to cave in and apologise, unable to bear being at odds with me. My death would've broken his heart. But aside from him…Asgard's populace would've been indifferent to my loss. My so-called "friends" would've celebrated my death. Mother would've been deeply disappointed in me. Father…no, not Father, _Odin_ would've been secretly relieved that he no longer had to put up with me.

_Just Thor, then_.

Would Thor's love alone be enough to spare me the axe? If he demanded (or begged for) my life, would I be shown leniency? Perhaps. Was it really a risk I was willing to take? But on the other hand, what would I gain by staying here and suffering? _An army_, they'd promised me, but I hardly believed them. I didn't know who to trust any more…in fact, I could barely remember _how_ to trust…

_Thor's love. Thor's selfish, futile, idiotic love. I can always trust that_.

I dry-heaved again, and this time I coughed up blood. Lowering my hands from my mouth, I saw red spots on them.

And with that, my mind was made up. I would take my chances with the Asgardians.

I managed to slip by the first few Chitauri without being noticed, but in the end it was necessary to use violence. Thirst makes you desperate – I fought like a wild thing. The first sentry who tried to stop me, I hacked down with my dagger. His patrol-mates weren't far away. One of them landed on me from behind, and we fell in a tangle of limbs. His claws raked through my hair, leaving a searing pain across my scalp. Pinning me down, he attempted to tear my throat open.

Suddenly, a cell on Asgard looked remarkably attractive. It would have a roof, at least. Regular meals. Perhaps even a change of clothes, if I was lucky. And, most importantly, _no fucking Chitauri_.

Twisting around and gaining leverage, I drove my elbow into his face and felt his cranium collapse. I made short work of the others, and was soon left panting over a pile of their corpses. My neck was scored with gashes, but no serious injury had been done to me.

The scent of death brought them all after me, and soon the jagged precipices and ravines were echoing with the harsh shrieks of Chitauri warriors, the perpetual night illuminated by bursts of energy. They were out for blood. I knew what they would do if they caught me.

So I fled. I had to get out of there. Anywhere, _anything_, was better than this place. Even the _All-Father_ would be preferable to spending another moment in this Hel-hole. Reaching for my magic, I tried to concentrate, feeling outwards with an intangible touch. I had arrived in this place by means of a portal, and I could leave the same way. All I had to do was find it again…_There it was_. Not visible, but I could sense it.

Piercing battle-cries sounded. They'd seen me again and were closing in on me. I couldn't fight them all.

Body and mind, I flung myself over the inter-dimensional threshold, allowing myself to be swept up helplessly in the current of magic. I landed in an undignified sprawl on an unfamiliar planet, as dark and miserable as the one I had just left. There was no time to take in the scenery; the portal didn't close quickly enough, and several Chitauri were able to follow me through the gap. I was forced to run away. Amid the craters I hid, cowering like a frightened dog from every flash of light which threatened to betray my location. Eventually they passed on, searching further afield in vain, and I crept from my hiding-place.

'Heimdall!' I croaked as I emerged, hoping against hope that among the billions of voices in the universe, he would hear mine. 'Heimdall, it's me! Open the Bifröst!'

There was no response. No light in the sky. Was the Gatekeeper purposely ignoring me?

'Heimdall, please. Open the bridge. Let me through.'

Then I remembered: I was outside the Nine Realms. Even if Heimdall _could_ hear me, what use was it? I was beyond the reach of the Bifröst bridge, beyond aid…By the time he sent help, it would be far too late.

Disheartened, I trudged on. I had cast aside my alliance with the Chitauri, my last remaining friends, and now I was alone. Alone and helpless.

_No. Not helpless_. I still had control over my body and command over my thoughts. I could go home, if I wanted to. I knew the ways between worlds, the forgotten passages, the untapped reservoirs of Bifröst-energy not yet dug up and extracted. Travelling would be difficult, but not impossible. Definitely not impossible.

My resolve hardened. I would go home. Whatever punishment they had in store for me, I would not cower from it. I would meet my fate head-on, like a prince. Like a king.

Portal after portal I passed through. The journey was indeterminably long. I walked through a desert where the sun beat hard on my back and vicious sandstorms threatened to flay my skin; then through a ghostly wasteland which breathed toxic fumes through cracks in the earth. Everywhere was waterless and inhospitable. Hunger gripped my belly. Exposure clawed at my bones. I spent the nights huddled in caves, unable to sleep for fear of my pursuers, and the days walking until my feet bled, searching for the next secret portal.

More than once, my courage failed me and I considered turning back, but the thought of a cooked meal, a warm bed and safe shelter drew me onwards.

_Just a little further_…

Finally I set foot in a forest clearing. It was night-time. I listened for running water, hoping there might be a stream nearby from which I could drink, but all I heard were the cries of nocturnal wildlife and the rustling of windswept leaves. I walked forwards blindly, my hands feeling their way from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, my feet scuffing and fumbling over the uneven ground. Twigs cracked underfoot and branches scratched at my face. I emerged from the woods into a green, open vale. Starlight shone on me, and there above me rose familiar snow-capped mountains. Unmistakeably Vanaheim.

I was back in the Nine Realms.

In my relief, I collapsed. The grass was cool, damp with dew and blessedly soft. I breathed a sigh.

'Now you see me, Heimdall,' I mumbled, 'Please send someone.'

Too exhausted to move further, I lay motionless on the ground and waited.

Sure enough, they came. A column of Bifröst-energy cut a hole through the night sky, penetrating the blackness with myriad colours. Fatigued, I closed my eyes against its brilliant radiance. _Don't be uncooperative_, I told myself,_ Just roll over like a good dog. It won't earn you a pardon, but it might spare you the axe_. So I lay where I was, the very picture of surrender and submission, hoping it would be enough to soften their hearts a little.

Heavy boots trod on the ground beside me, and a warm hand touched my neck. Opening my eyes feebly, I focused on my rescuer. Golden hair, the ends of which tickled my face as he bent low over me. Blue eyes, which frowned at me. I think Thor's genuine first reaction upon seeing me was concern; but once he realised I was alive, awake and uninjured, his anger returned in full-force. Roughly he grabbed me by the throat, hauled me off the ground and shoved me towards the nearest Einherjar.

'Shackle him.'

They surrounded me – a flurry of clanking armour and glinting speartips far too close to my face. My hands were shackled in front of me, metal rings locking into place around my wrists. I supposed it was to be expected. Technically I _was_ a criminal, after all. Resigning myself to my restraints, I offered no resistance.

'I'm thirsty,' I complained, but was ignored.

'I know not how you escaped, or for what purpose you've allowed yourself to be caught,' Thor growled, 'But know this: this is _the last time_ you will see the outside of your cell. You will _never again_ breathe the free air.'

_Cell? What cell?_

'I'm thirsty,' I repeated. 'Could I have – ?'

'Your basic needs will be seen to upon your return. Supper will be sent to your cell, along with clean clothes and bathwater, or whatever else you require within reason.'

I took some comfort from that. Even when angry, Thor wasn't cruel enough to deny me essential amenities. Clearly he wasn't _entirely_ indifferent to the condition I was in.

'But the books Mother lavished you with will be removed, along with the extravagant furnishings,' Thor continued, 'Luxury is wasted upon a prisoner such as you.'

That confused me.

'What are you talking about?' My legs were turning to water, and it was becoming incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything.

'You know damn well! You've been indulged long enough. From now on, you will be treated as any other criminal – no more clandestine gifts from Mother, no more pampering.'

Our reunion wasn't going the way I'd hoped. I'd known better than to expect a warm welcome, but I hadn't anticipated quite this level of vehement hostility – especially from Thor. The last time we'd been face-to-face, he'd been screaming in anguish at the sight of my death. Now he glared at me as if he wanted nothing better than to strike my head from my shoulders.

'The prisoner will be escorted directly back to the dungeons. Take no chances. From now on, I want him chained up at all times. Heimdall – !'

'My lord?' one of the Einherjar interjected.

'Yes?'

'My lord, the prisoner is still in his cell.'

'He's not. He's right here in front of us.' Thor gestured towards me using Mjölnir.

The warrior bowed his head, but persisted:

'My lord, I saw him with my own eyes. Locked up, reading a book.'

'It's a replica, an illusion,' Thor cried frustratedly, 'Touch it and it will dissipate!'

'He did not, my lord. When we laid hands on him, he was there. Flesh and blood.'

Thor hesitated. He grasped my hand, squeezed it tight. Did the same to my arm. My shoulder. My jaw. He looked at me – _really_ looked at me.

'Loki?' he asked as if seeing me for the first time.

Unexpectedly he placed both hands on my cheeks, cupping my face. Taken off-guard, I squirmed away.

'Yes,' I said wearily, 'It's me. It's Loki. _I'm_ Loki. Who did you think I was?'

'It is,' he agreed, letting go of me and stepping back. 'It really _is_ you. But how is this possible? You cannot be in two places at once – not even _you_ with all your tricks. What magic have you wrought? What is your game?'

No tricks, no magic, no game. Not this time.

'…Please, Thor. Can this wait?' I said. Pleading hurt, but there were worse pains; I'd learned that much. 'I came here seeking shelter, not trouble. By all means, lock me up, but do it quickly.'

'From where have you come?' he asked me. His tone was cautious. _Hesitant_, almost.

I lowered my head for a moment. How could I encapsulate my experiences in a few words? The cloying murk of the Chitauri's planet, the repulsive nature of its indigenes? The subtle, mesmerising horror of the sceptre's blue light, eating its way through my eyes, into my skull, deep into my brain?

'…Believe it or not, you will get answers,' I said eventually, 'I will explain everything, but for now, I would like to rest. I've had a difficult journey – '

'From where?' he pressed me.

'From Hel,' I snapped. A momentary loss of temper which made them flinch. 'Not literally,' I amended, 'but a place similar to it, if not worse. Far beyond the Nine Realms…you wouldn't have heard of it.'

'Were you alone there?'

'…No. No, I wasn't. There were…creatures there.'

'Hostile?'

'Perhaps. I was…' I groped for the right term. Held captive? Not really. Stranded? '…I was…compelled to stay there. For a while, I did, but I fell out of love with the place. I hatched an escape plan. I fled. And now I'm home, as you see.'

He was still giving me that look – that sidelong, questioning look – and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew something I didn't. Not exactly a feeling I was accustomed to.

'I know I've been a long time,' I wheezed, 'I know my return must come as a surprise. You probably thought I was dead, and I wouldn't blame you if you did. But now I've returned. And more importantly, I'm hungry and tired and I haven't bathed in months. So if you'd be so kind, I'd like to – '

'We _did_ think you dead,' Thor interrupted. 'You were lost to the abyss. Gone, with no hope of a body ever being found. Then a year later you reappeared on Earth with a Chitauri battle-fleet at your back, wielding an ancient weapon and leaving a trail of destruction in your wake. You attacked the humans and attempted to enslave them. In your desperation to be king and conquerer, you committed grievous crimes against the mortals, against the Nine Realms…against _us_.'

'I did?' I said faintly.

'Yes.' He paused. 'But that was many months ago. You are currently locked in the dungeons, serving a life sentence for your misdeeds.'

'…I am?'

For the first time, I noticed that Thor's hair was long and braided for battle. When had he last worn his hair in battle-braids? I couldn't recall. My peripheral vision was going dark. Semi-conscious at this point, I swayed, my chained hands reaching for something to lean against, a support that wasn't there.

I fell, and he didn't catch me.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Lots of thanks to princesslolitatheorca654, Nako13yeh, Sammyx2202x, HE…Y (is it okay if I call you that? xD) and Exxal for reviewing. Hope you enjoy!**

I wasn't quite unconscious as they brought me home. The Bifröst bore us to Heimdall's Observatory, where I was shrouded beneath a hooded cloak and hustled into the city. Too weak and shaken to walk, I had to be carried the entire way. Thor hadn't uttered another word to me since I'd collapsed on Vanaheim, but I was aware of his presence close by.

'Don't let anyone see his face,' I could hear him mutter to the guards.

Still filthy, still hungry, and still wholly dissatisfied with my situation, I kept my head down and let them have their way.

I knew we were indoors when I felt warmth envelop me. I thought they were taking me to the healing-rooms, but the bare white cube I found myself in was clearly a prison cell. A wall of golden light was my only window onto the bleak stone passageway outside. I was uncloaked, laid down on a thin mattress, and a stern-faced woman in a healer's robe began to undress me. That was when I fell truly unconscious.

Upon waking, I found my clothes gone, replaced by a baggy nightshirt and clean undergarments. Plain, simple, coarsely-spun fabric – a prisoner's clothes. I'd been shackled at the wrists and ankles to the bed, the metal links clinking as I stirred.

'Awake?' Thor was standing on the other side of the enchanted barrier, looking in on me. 'How are you feeling?'

My head ached horribly and my throat was dry. When I moved my lips, I could feel them crack.

'Well?' I rasped. 'Where's my promised supper? And bathwater?'

'You've been washed. Supper can wait until after Father has spoken to you.'

'Must he?' I moaned.

'Yes, as soon as you're ready. But before then, _I_ would like to speak with you.' He slowly began to pace to and fro. Mjölnir hung at his belt. Bluntly he asked me, 'You came home of your own volition. Why? Why would you surrender yourself to the darkness and abandon Asgard only to return to us?'

'Because you loved me.' In a way it was true. I'd placed my trust in Thor's ability to love me and forgive me even after everything I'd done. I'd staked my life on it, in fact.

Thor snorted.

'What do you care for love? It's never stopped you from betraying everyone who cares for you.'

'Perhaps I had a change of heart.'

'I only wish that were true.'

Grimacing, I lifted my head from the pillow, squinting against the painful whiteness of the cell.

'Is it night or day?'

'Night.'

I peered around my new home. I was well-acquainted enough with the dungeons to know that I was only on the second or third level. That surprised me. Surely I warranted tighter security than this? I couldn't resist pointing this flaw out to Odinson.

'I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted,' I remarked, 'I was certain you'd bury me in the bowels of the earth. Why so lax?'

'You're to be kept separate from the prisoners on the lower levels for the timebeing.'

'Isolation and solitude. Wonderful.'

'It's for the best.'

'How so?'

'We don't want Loki to hear of your existence.'

That baffled me for a minute (_does he think I'm somebody else?_) before I remembered him babbling about me having a doppelgänger and attacking Midgard or some such. _How absurd_.

'Oh, of course. My mysterious clone,' I sighed, 'What drivel. When will I be unshackled? These bonds are quite unnecessary…'

'When we've ascertained what you are. Until then, get used to them. Father's orders.'

'_Father_,' I spat. 'I rue the hour when I killed Laufey and saved that blind old cripple's life. If only I'd let the Frost Giant do his work, I'd be rid of that one-eyed – '

'Loki,' he interrupted, 'You are a prisoner before you are my brother. Speak of the king in that manner and you can expect a flogging.'

'Oh, what a frightful prospect! Tell me, what could you _possibly_ inflict upon me that could hurt worse than what I've _just_ been through? I've battled through ice and hellfire and hordes of Chitauri monsters to come home, I've seen things that would make your blood curdle in your veins, and now you threaten me with what – a few dozen lashes? Oh, mercy, I implore you.'

Thor's jaw tightened.

'Anyway, I'm wake now, so run along and fetch the king. If we're going to have to talk, we might as well get it over with.'

Visibly controlling himself, Thor replied:

'You're right. I'll go and tell him you're feeling better.'

_Feeling better. Ha_. I let my head drop back onto the pillow, glad to be rid of that moron's presence for at least a few minutes.

'Loki?' A gentle whisper.

Ah. Of course she'd be here, hovering, watching. Mother stepped into view of my cell, looking up at me.

'Hello, Mother.' I hated how my voice wavered as I greeted her. I tried to disguise it, forcing a smile onto my face. 'I've come home to you.'

'I know you have. How are you feeling?'

'I've been better. So, what's it to be? I imagine I'm going to be imprisoned for a very, very long time. Or am I to be sent to the chopping-block? Either way, I'd like to know in advance.'

'I am certain your father will spare your life.'

'Ah, so imprisonment it is, then. Unless I can find redemption?'

'Loki…'

'I know, I know. It won't be easy. I'll have to face the consequences of my actions before I can be accepted back into the family, et cetera, et cetera. I have crimes to answer for. Treason, for example. Unleashing the Bifröst. And as for the attempted fratricide, well, the less said, the better. In hindsight, I've been careless and perhaps a little vindictive…'

'_Loki_. Listen to me. Your father is coming to talk to you. Try not to antagonise him. Be respectful.'

'He's not my father,' I snapped. 'Or do you still cling to that ridiculous notion?'

'Hush. Please don't make things worse than they already are.'

I wanted to hug her, but instead I turned my face to the wall and pretended to ignore her. I knew my apathy hurt her more than my anger. She could weather my wrath, but not my indifference.

'There is still hope, Loki. Try not to give up yet – '

'Frigga,' an all-too-familiar voice cut across our conversation. 'Thor and I will speak to the prisoner.'

Thor had come back, bringing another visitor – the All-Father. I'd been preparing myself for the sight of him, but the surge of hatred upon seeing his face was still unexpected.

'Here he comes. Odin Borson. The great _liar_,' I said as Mother walked away, my lip curling into a sneer. 'You must be so disappointed. Thinking you were finally free of me, only for me to return from the dead.'

They didn't stop at the barrier, but stepped through it into the cell. I felt a shiver of nervousness as Odin approached my bedside (_have I gone too far?_) and instinctively recoiled, but all he did was place a hand on my forehead. His touch was as unwelcome as a branding-iron, but I tolerated it, knowing that I would only humiliate myself by struggling.

'It _is_ you,' he said emotionlessly, withdrawing his hand.

'Yes,' I concurred. 'Why, did you think I was an imposter?'

'Part of me hoped as much. Tell me…what happened to you after you fell from the bridge?'

'I…was lost. I wandered about for a while. Then I found new friends, or at least I thought I did. Our love affair didn't last long, though; I ran away from them and ended up back here. I'd rather not go into details.'

To my surprise, my flippant summary seemed to satisfy him.

'I believe he is telling the truth,' Odin turned towards Thor. 'I may not know him as well as I once did, but I can still recognise when he is attempting to deceive me.'

'That's good to know,' I said, drawing his attention back to me. Almost casually I added, 'Thor mentioned that there's another Loki in one of these cells. Is it true?'

'Yes. It is true.'

'So…I am no longer the only…_me_?'

'No. You are not.'

For a long minute, I simply looked at him. He returned my stare with a cold eye. Then I began to laugh wildly.

'Has everyone gone insane? Why do I feel like I'm the only one here still in command of my wits?'

'You're not,' said Odin curtly. 'There are rifts in the universe. Cracks in space and time…and reality. We have no name for them yet, for only a handful have ever been observed.'

My laughter subsided. With a hint of desperation, I asked:

'What happened to me? You think I passed through one of these rifts?'

'Yes.'

I felt like I'd been slapped. My escape had seemed to go so smoothly, yet somehow, in the time it had taken to escape the Chitauri's wretched homeworld and find my way to Vanaheim, something had gone wrong. _Badly_ wrong. One of me had made the journey, but the other one…had not.

'But Father,' Thor sounded equally confused. 'If this is the case, then which of them is the true Loki?'

'_Both_. They are _both_ the true Loki. The same bodies, the same minds, the same memories…the_ same Loki_. Identical in every way, inside and out. But the one lying in this bed – ' he gestured towards me as if I were an inanimate object – 'is…_dislocated_. He belongs in another time and place. He belongs in the _past_. He should not be here.'

'So…_this_ Loki…never attacked Midgard?'

'You know very well I did no such thing,' I snapped. 'I have no interest in killing your pathetic humans, let alone ruling them! Why would I? An ignorant race of weaklings and fools…'

'Silence.' Thor glared at me.

'No, let him speak.' Odin surprised me. 'I want to hear what he has to say. Tell me, Loki – why did you turn your back on your new allies?'

The mention of the Chitauri unsettled me.

'I…I tired of them. They no longer served my purpose.'

'Which was?'

'Revenge.'

'So you gave up on revenge?' Odin raised an eyebrow. 'Why?'

'Because…' I hesitated. What could I answer? _Because I was hungry? Homesick? Scared?_ I couldn't bring myself to admit to such weakness. But what was the point of hiding it? Odin could see through my bluff. Defeated, I lowered my gaze. 'Because I changed my mind.'

'Is this to be believed?' Thor asked quietly.

'Only time will tell. Now, I must leave. I have other business to attend. See to it that the guards do not let their tongues wag. Under no circumstances is news of this new arrival to spread to the lower dungeons.'

'May I visit him?' I said just as he was turning to leave. 'Your Loki, that is. I am curious to meet him…'

'No. Absolutely not,' he responded sharply. 'Both of you are too cunning for your own good. If I can keep you apart indefinitely, I will. Loki _cannot_ be allowed to learn of what has transpired.'

It irked me that he called another by my name.

'So I am to take your word for it that he exists?' I retorted.

'Yes.'

'_Your_ word? The word of _Odin_? Do you honestly expect me to believe – ?'

'I expect you to behave yourself. Thor, see to your brother.'

Odin made his exit.

'Gods above, that took an age,' I groaned. 'Who's next? The Warriors Three? Darling Sif? Enough with the flowers and well-wishes! What do I have to do to get my damned supper – ?'

I heard the chink of tableware and turned quickly. The healer had returned, bringing with her a bowl of stew, a thick slice of bread and a big leather flask of water. Another pillow was placed under my shoulders to prop me up, and the dinner-tray was placed on my lap. I could move my arms just enough to feed myself, for which I was glad – I had no desire to be fed like a babe.

The first spoonful was like going to Valhalla. Not even caring that I was being watched, I shut my eyes and chewed slowly and with relish, savouring every aspect of its flavour and texture.

'Good?' Thor queried.

'Yes,' I replied with my mouth half-full.

'When was the last time you ate?'

'I was injected with nutrients about a week ago.'

'That sounds…unsatisfactory.' He was silent for a while before asking: 'What did you and Mother speak of?'

'Nothing of importance. We reminisced about the good old days. Made up for lost time. She still deludes herself into believing I'm part of the family.'

'You _are_. For better or for worse.'

'Oh, haven't you heard?' I munched on a piece of bread-crust. 'It turns out I'm not _actually_ the most accomplished liar on Asgard. Odin is. You see, all those years ago on Jötunheim, he stumbled across a baby lying in the snow – '

'Yes, Loki, I know. They told me everything after you died.'

'Except I didn't, did I? Die, that is. I'm still alive. Still a thorn in your side. Does that make you happy?'

He didn't answer.

'Anyhow,' I continued. 'It's not my fault Frigga is a hopeless fool.'

'She is no fool and you know it. Don't be cruel to her.'

'Cruel?' The spoon clattered against the side of the bowl as I lost my grip on it. 'She tricked me into thinking I had a family. What was that if not cruelty?'

'She raised you as her own. I call that _charity_, not cruelty. Why do you insist on filling your heart with these twisted notions? Are you blind to the good things in your life?'

'Name five. No, in fact, name one.'

'The love of your family,' he answered immediately.

I almost choked on my laughter.

'Two years I've been gone, and you've changed not at all. You're still the same witless oaf you've always been.'

'Perhaps.' He showed no reaction to being insulted. 'But the fact remains the same: you are part of this family whether you like it or not. That choice has already been made for you.'

'Well, soon it shall be _unmade_. Even if Odin doesn't have my head lopped off, he's sure to disown me and cut me off from the family. In fact, I'll damn well make sure he does!'

In the ringing silence that followed, I regretted my outburst. Things weren't going as planned. I'd only been home for a few hours, and already I was coming dangerously close to pushing everyone away. Again. Lowering my gaze, I carried on eating, scraping the bottom of the bowl.

'…You test my patience,' said Thor at last. 'I can only hope that your behaviour stems from exhaustion, and that your attitude will improve once you are well-rested. But for now…I tire of you.'

He walked away without bidding me goodnight, and I inwardly cursed at my reckless insolence. I'd let anger get the better of me instead of playing the part of a penitent. _I'm such an idiot_. How could I expect to earn a pardon when every word that came out my mouth was a fresh reminder of why I was so unpopular?

Wordlessly I handed the empty bowl and flask back to the woman. Tomorrow, I would be different. I would be meek and compliant and apologetic. I would tremble and weep and be thankful for every scrap they threw me. I would show everyone how happy I was to be home, and how eager I was to make amends.

_And afterwards…Afterwards, I can worry about vengeance_.

The healer double-checked my shackles before covering me with a blanket. I felt like an invalid being tucked into bed, but the sensation was so beautifully soothing, so indescribably warm and soft it was overwhelming. Before I knew it, I'd slipped gently into sleep.

I woke screaming. Claws were digging into my chest and belly and legs, metallic limbs straddling me and pinning me to the bed. The Chitauri had found me. Terror constricted my throat; I jumped violently against my restrains, a wordless, garbled yell of denial and horror escaping me.

A second later Thor burst through the golden barrier, his voice ringing loud in the chamber.

'What's going on?'

'Th-th…Chi – ' I stuttered, staring around wildly in search of my attackers, only to realise he and I were the only people in the cell. There were no Chitauri; no monstrous claws piercing my flesh. Just the whiteness and my own weakness.

I don't know which was more potent: the relief or the embarrassment.

'What is it?' Odinson demanded.

'Nothing – nothing,' I panted, still shaking, ' Just a – just – nothing.'

'Were you dreaming?'

'Yes – yes.' I slumped.

Making an irritated noise, he released the handle of his hammer.

'Why would you scream like that?' he growled, as if I'd deliberately done it to vex him.

'I couldn't help it.'

'In any case, don't do it again.'

His stupidity hurt, but I wasn't in the mood to quarrel with him. My arms and legs hurt where I'd fought against the shackles, and my struggles had turned the blanket upside-down – the bulk of it now lay rumpled near my feet. I squirmed my legs to try to straighten it out.

'Here,' Thor said gruffly.

He pulled the blanket off me, shook it out vigorously and draped it over me again. The accompanying billow of air was soothingly cool against my sweaty skin. I opened my mouth to thank him, but changed my mind and said nothing. While he lingered, glancing around the chamber to make sure everything was still in order, I realised for the first time how swiftly he'd entered.

'How did you get here so fast?' I asked hoarsely.

'I was nearby.'

'To protect me or to prevent my escape?'

'To prevent your escape. I don't need to protect you, there's nothing to harm you here.' His tone was dismissive, almost as if he was _scoffing_ at me. At my fear. My perfectly legitimate, genuine fear…'Now go back to sleep. No more nonsense.'

He didn't bother to wait for my reply, but walked out, leaving me alone again. I relaxed my muscles and drew slow, purposeful breaths._ No more nightmares. No more fear. No more Chitauri. No more_…

'Thank you,' I whispered into the whiteness: 'Thank you.'

I had no idea who I was thanking, or what for; all I knew was that the Chitauri were far away, and I would never, ever stop being grateful for that…

A while later, his footsteps returned – furtive this time, boots treading softly and carefully. I didn't stir, nor open my eyes. I heard a chair being set down on the stone floor of the passageway outside, followed by a creak as his weight settled upon it.

Evidently he thought I was asleep. Perhaps he wanted to take the opportunity to stare at my face and soak in the sight of his long-lost brother, or perhaps he just wanted to keep a closer eye on his prisoner. Either way, he sat by me for the rest of the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Lots of thanks to Nako13yeh, Harold and boukenbee for reviewing :). Hope you enjoy!**

'Breakfast.' A guard's sharp voice woke me. Jolted awake, I tried to roll over into a defensive ball, only to be thwarted by my restraints. I looked around. Thor was already gone. He'd taken the chair with him, leaving no evidence that he'd watched me sleep. The guard was standing over me. 'Breakfast,' he repeated, unshackling me from the bed and handing me a bowl.

'Is this all?' I asked.

He looked at me expressionlessly and left without a word. I ate cold porridge for the first time in my life, cleansed my palate with water, then rose gingerly from the bed. Glad to be unchained, I draped my blanket around my shoulders (partly for warmth, partly for dignity's sake as I was still inadequately dressed) and paced around the cell, stretching my legs. The view outside my golden window was distinctly boring – stone blocks and empty cells as far as the eye could see. Before long, I had familiarised myself with its grey severity.

I received no visitors that morning. No healer, no Thor, not even Mother. I thought about yelling for a guard and demanding to know what was taking everybody so damn long, but I decided such action was beneath me. If Odin and Thor wanted to ignore me and leave me stewing here, well…two could play at that game.

Hour after hour dragged past, feeling like centuries, with nothing to interest me but picking loose strands of thread off the frayed hem of my nightshirt. Supper rolled by – bread and stew like last night. I ate slowly and without appetite, imagining the opulent feasts that must've burdened the tables in the royal palace. Thor was probably up there, drinking merrily and stuffing his face, while I rotted away down here, forgotten and unwanted. Out of sight, out of mind…

In all honesty, I gave little thought to my alleged replica. Part of me still held firm to the belief that this was all one huge misunderstanding, a bizarre case of mistaken identity. _He may be wearing my face and voice, but he most definitely isn't me_. And even if it were true and he _was_ me, I was still inclined to think of myself as the one and only _real_ Loki, rather than acknowledge the legitimacy of his existence.

I was playing with my empty plate, trying to make it spin on its rim, when a visitor finally arrived – not Mother as I'd hoped, but the All-Father. He looked grimmer than usual, if that was even possible. I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand.

'Before we begin, I want my intentions to be clear: I am here to discuss the terms of your sentence, _not_ to entertain your snide taunts, nor to answer questions regarding _your other self_. Is that understood?'

Closing my mouth, I nodded mutely. He entered my cell. I retreated, seating myself on the bed and crossing my legs. He remained standing.

'I am not going to hold you accountable for crimes you have not committed. It was not _you_, but another Loki who attacked Midgard and sought to wield the Tesseract. To blame you for his wrongdoings would be unjust. He chose war, and you chose a different path. _You_ chose to surrender. However, you are still guilty of conspiracy and murder. These are factors which I have taken into account while deciding your fate.'

'Which is to be?'

'You will serve a sentence of a hundred years.'

Once it had sank in, I realised it wasn't _that_ harsh a sentence. A hundred years was barely a fiftieth of my lifespan. Much better than the life sentence by replica was serving.

'What happens afterwards?' I asked, keeping my tone respectful.

'_If_ you serve your full sentence meekly and without causing mischief, then your wrongs will be forgiven, you will be permitted back into society, and your title of prince will be restored to you.'

'And what constitutes "mischief"?'

'Any attempt to escape from your confinement or cause harm to another living being, will be considered "mischief".'

'I understand.' I lifted a hesitant hand. 'I do have…_one_ question.'

'Is it relevant to the discussion?'

'I believe so.'

'Then ask it.'

'Does Asgard know I've returned?'

'A handful of the guards do, yes, but they are sworn to silence. Your presence remains a secret.'

'Then how can I hope to return to society? How am I ever to resume my old life?'

'On the day of your release, I will make your existence known, and I will explain to the populace that you are not the same Loki who subjugated the humans and brought shame to his family. But until then, Asgard doesn't need to know.'

I lowered my head in resignation. He gave me a moment's silence to process my thoughts, before adding:

'You may feel that your sentence is disproportionate, but I assure you the opposite is true. Were you any other person, I would have you executed. But as you are my son, I am willing to give you another chance. I will extend my forgiveness to you once you have paid for your crimes.'

'What crimes?' I asked politely, twining my fingers on my lap and letting the corners of my mouth curl into a friendly smile. 'Please, outline them for me. My memory is a little hazy.'

He obliged, albeit with a flat stare of disapproval.

'Firstly, you sent The Destroyer to Earth with the express purpose of killing Thor. You attempted to murder your brother and your future king.'

I shrugged, pointing out:

'_You_ exiled Thor to Earth alone, with no powers or protection, to suffer and potentially be killed. You deliberately endangered the life of your son – _and_ your future king, as he would've been if you had abdicated. Is that not akin to murder?'

'No, it is not. Thor's exile was a punishment he brought on himself through his own arrogance and stupidity. He learned his lesson and changed for the better. You, on the other hand, have yet to be brought to justice.'

'But how was I to know he had changed?' Uncrossing my legs, I leaned forwards. 'At that point, I had no reason to believe he was any different from the bloodthirsty fool he'd been when you banished him. As far as I was concerned, he was a liability. What if he had blamed me for your falling into the Odinsleep, and branded me a usurper? What if he had taken the throne for himself, and wreaked havoc on Jötunheim?'

'So you viewed his death as a necessity?' said the All-Father coolly.

'Yes. And one more thing…Heimdall, Sif and the Warriors Three conspired to bring Thor back to Earth – in direct violation of _your_ orders _and_ mine – for no purpose other than that they disliked and distrusted me. They decided that my _rightful_ and _lawful_ presence on the throne was unacceptable, and so plotted to restore my brother to power.'

'And so? What has this to do with your attempt on Thor's life? If you believed his friends were guilty of treason, why did you not send The Destroyer after _them_ instead of your brother?'

'I panicked.' Another shrug. 'After I found out my so-called friends had betrayed me, I became distrustful of everyone. I decided Thor needed to die.'

'I see.' Odin's gaze was growing colder by the minute, but he remained civil. 'Whatever your motives, trying to kill your own brother was not your only crime. You conspired with the Jötunns and led them into our realm, not once but twice.'

'And what law did I break, exactly?' I asked. 'There is no rule saying that Jötunns cannot set foot on Asgard with the invitation of a prince. The prince, in this instance, being _me_.'

'You broke the most basic laws of crown and family. You were disloyal to your people and your loved ones.'

'Disloyal,' I snorted. 'The first time, it was a prank. The second time, it was to entrap Laufey. My approach was secretive and underhanded, yes, but I see no disloyalty in my actions.'

'You put Frigga's life in danger.'

'Oh, come!' I snapped, my temper flaring up, 'Do you really think I would've allowed them to kill her? I was right outside the door! She was never at real risk – '

'Thirdly,' Odin interrupted. 'You used the magic of the Bifröst as a weapon, turning its power against Jötunheim and causing untold devastation to its inhabitants.'

'You mean its inhabitants who were on the verge of waging war against us?' I threw up my arms. 'They were a threat to our realm. I took the initiative and neutralised them. If I hadn't, Asgard would be a frozen pile of rubble by now.'

'You had other options. Negotiation, for example.'

'Negotations ended when Thor started swinging his hammer around. Perhaps if he hadn't – '

'Enough.' He silenced me. 'I didn't come here to quarrel with you. I will continue this discussion no further.'

He turned to leave. I felt bubbles of panic rise inside me.

'Wait,' I said. 'Can we not…_talk_ about it first? Is my punishment not…_excessive?_'

'If you are hoping to be granted an early release, do not bother. The length of your sentence is not negotiable. A hundred years is what you will serve.'

'It's not the _length_ that bothers me. It's the _tedium_ I'm worried about. One-hundred years is a long time to be stuck in a white box with nothing to do.'

'That is why it is called a punishment. If it were enjoyable, it would scarcely be worth it.'

'I'll be bored out of my mind. What if I go insane?'

'You will not go insane. Your mind is too strong for that.' Once more, he turned to leave.

'Before you go, I have one request to make. Just one, and I promise it won't be any bother.'

'Make it quick.'

'I wish to spend my sentence in my chambers, rather than in this cell.'

Silence. I took a deep breath, and continued:

'I've been gone a long time. I've been alone, cold and hungry. I _do not_ want to spend the next hundred years staring at a blank wall with no-one to talk to and nothing to entertain me. Therefore, I ask that I be confined to my own chambers, where I can while away the time among my books and scrolls. I know you don't trust me, so…I promise that I will not attempt to escape, nor influence anybody into setting me free.'

He looked distinctly unimpressed.

'_And_,' I place my hand on my chest, 'I promise that I will not use my magic, my books or any other tools I possess as a weapon to kill, injure or otherwise inconvenience anybody. I recognise that they are privileges and not to be misused.'

'Anything else?'

I thought about it for a minute.

'Also, I promise I'll stop antagonising you and Thor. I'll keep a courteous tongue in my head, even when you're vexing me. If I break any of these promises, you can throw me back in this cell indefinitely. I won't protest or complain.'

'And why should I grant you this request?'

'Because it…because it would make me happy. And happiness is a rare thing for me, is it not? Much better than resentment, yes?'

I grinned, hoping against hope that he would share my sentiment. He still looked unconvinced.

'Is there anything I can do to convince you of my sincerity? Should I say "please"?'

'Do not make light of this situation, Loki.'

'Would it help if I begged?' Clasping my hands in mock-prayer, I slid forwards off the bed onto my knees and shuffled across the floor towards him. 'How's this? Should I do this in the throne-room so everyone can see it?'

'You insult me. I would never force you to humiliate yourself, no matter how severe your crimes.'

'_What then?_' My humour died and I surged to my feet, glaring down at him from my full height. '_What do you want?_ I don't know what you want from me, and I _never have_! I've spent my whole damn life trying to please you, and every second of it has been a waste of time, because you are _impossible to please_!'

I yelled the last few words at the top of my lungs, leaving my ears ringing and head pounding. Breathing heavily, I awaited his response. He returned my gaze in silence before asking coldly:

'Are you done?'

I realised then that he was never going to listen to me. I slumped.

'Can I at least have visitors? Will Mother and Thor come and see me?'

'Yes,' was his answer. 'But if you set one foot wrong, all visits will be prohibited.'

'Then may I please,' I kept my voice low through clenched teeth, 'be allowed outside once in a while? Just for a few minutes, every month or so. For exercise and fresh air. Please.'

'No. For the duration of your sentence, you will be treated like any other criminal.'

'Then just kill me. I would've died out there in the abyss anyway.'

'What did you say?'

'Kill me! I came home so that I could be with the people I love. I didn't come home so that I could be an outcast!'

'You are not an outcast.'

'I surrendered to you and Thor! I handed myself over to you, trusting in your mercy and believing that I would be well-treated! Yet you would deny me? Are you not honour-bound to grant me my requests?'

'I am honour-bound to do no such thing. Cease this pitiful behaviour before you anger me.'

'How does Mother feel about this?' I demanded, 'And Thor? Do they get any say in the matter?'

'Frigga agrees that you should face the consequences of your actions. Thor is still struggling to understand what's going on. I have spoken to them both at length, but the ultimate decision is mine to make, not theirs.'

My shoulders juddered in an involuntary burst of laughter.

'Ah, so Thor hasn't changed all that much. He's still as brainless as ever.'

That was the final straw for Father. He turned and walked out of the cell.

'This conversation is over. Your sentence begins now. You have thirty-six-thousand and five-hundred days before you are released. Try to spend them productively.'

'Productively?' I sputtered. 'I'm locked in a box!'

'Then take the time to meditate and reflect upon your behaviour. By the time you set foot outside of this dungeon, I expect you to have let go of your childish envy.'

'Can I have one book to read?' I called after him. 'Just one?'

'The other prisoners are not lavished with such gifts. Why should _you_ receive one?'

Before I could reply, he was gone. I sagged against the bed and let my head hang. _Useless_. All of it, all of my promises and attempts at persuasion, had been useless. His mind was already made up, and nothing I could say or do would ever sway him. Odin was as immovable as a stone, deaf to my words.

_Fine, then. If words won't work, perhaps actions will_.

I knew what I had to do.

Picking up my plate, I gripped it firmly with both hands and bashed it against the bedframe. The first time, it cracked. The second time, it shattered. Calmly and deliberately, I placed the sharp pieces in my mouth, using my fingers to push them deep down my throat, and kept on pushing until I could taste oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to Nako13yeh, Harold, boukenbee, Guest and Vi-Violence for reviewing :)**

I couldn't breathe. Barely able to see straight, I scrabbled and thumped around on the floor, my limbs acting outside of my control as I began to convulse. The first sentry who entered my cell grabbed me from behind, caught me in a tight embrace around the middle and drove both forearms hard into my belly. It felt like he was trying to break me in half. I blacked out once, only to regain consciousness a few seconds later, doubled over and gasping for air. He did it again and again until the broken shards began to come back up, accompanied by regurgitated food. I was in agony, but at least I could breathe again.

Once my windpipe was no longer blocked, he let go of me and I sank onto the bed, still heaving. The second guard remained with me while the first fetched help, keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword in case I tried anything stupid. I stayed where I was, dribbling a mixture of blood and spit and vomit, and waited.

My work was done. The rest was up to fate.

I longed to pass out again and escape the searing pain in my throat, but by a cruel twist, unconsciousness evaded me. Equally disappointing was the guards' decision to leave me where I was rather than take me to the healing-rooms (or better yet, the palace) as I'd hoped.

While they were cleaning the floor, I was busy suffering. Every breath hurt. My body was tense all over, knuckles turning white as I gripped my blanket. My midriff was bruised; when I lifted my nightshirt, I could count the individual marks where the guard's metal vambraces had dug into me. I opened my mouth to ask for a healer, but closed it again in pain, still unable to speak.

Before long Thor arrived, barging through the golden barrier.

'What's going on here?' he barked.

'My lord, the prisoner – '

'I am aware of what he has done. I want to know _why_.' With a wave of his hand he dismissed the guards, who scurried out of the room. 'What's your scheme? Tell the truth, now. I've no time for your machinations.'

I made a choked noise.

'…No scheme, brother. Whatever you might think – '

'Don't try to play the innocent. I know you're up to something. What are you hoping to gain? Pity? A reprieve?'

I said nothing. _Don't answer. Let him draw his own conclusions_.

'I don't understand. Were you trying to die?'

I averted my gaze, my silence steering him towards the answer. It took a while, but he got there eventually. Predictably, his first reaction to my brush with death was to yell.

'You fool. You damned fool. What were you thinking? After fighting for your life, you'd throw it all away because you were afraid to face justice?'

I waited patiently, knowing he was only speaking out of emotion and his tirade would end soon. Sure enough, Thor's anger ran its course and the reality of the situation sank in. His arms fell to his sides and he stood at a loss. Much quieter now, he said:

'Why did you do it? If this is about your sentence, _we had no other choice_. You must understand, we had to handle you with caution.'

'It's not that, exactly,' I croaked. 'It's merely…Father said…'

'Said what?'

Here it came – the difficult part. I had to cry. I'd feigned tears in the past, but it still took effort to force my body to weep.

'He told me I couldn't return to my old life. All that time I was with the Chitauri, I just wanted to…I just wanted to come home. I wanted my life to go back to being the way it used to be. And he told me it was impossible.'

Thor was struggling to put on an impassive face, as if my tears didn't affect him, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Despite everything, he still wasn't capable of distancing himself from me.

I shielded my face as if embarrassed.

'You must think me pathetic. I don't mean to – to behave like this. It's just…after all that time I spent…'

'Hush. Enough,' he said gruffly. 'I'll go and tell Father what's happened.'

'No, don't – don't tell him.' I gulped back a sob. 'He'll do nothing but scold me. I'm tired of being scolded.'

'He needs to know. And while I'm there, I'll talk to him about lightening your sentence.'

'You'd do that?' I asked, eyes widening, striking the perfect golden note between astonishment and gratitude. 'You'd do that for me?'

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

'I cannot promise anything,' he answered uncomfortably. 'There's no guarantee he'll agree to my requests, but I'll see what I can do.'

'Thank you. Truly. Thank you.'

He made a move as if he were about to pat me on the shoulder, but changed his mind and lowered his hand.

'I'll do my best,' he assured me, and left.

_There. Problem solved_. Within a few breaths, my weeping ceased. I wiped my eyes and nose dry, turned onto my side and tried in vain to get comfortable. Nestling my head against the pillow, I endeavoured to breathe as slowly and as little as possible, minimising the amount of air that had to pass through my wounded throat.

Finally exhaustion overpowered pain. I slept for hours, and didn't wake until I felt someone shaking my shoulder. Squinting through the fog of semi-sleep and recognising Odin, my instinctive reaction was to flinch away from his touch.

'Don't try to speak,' he pre-empted me. 'Do you remember the promises you made?'

I nodded, wincing.

'Do you still intend to keep them?'

Another nod.

'Then I will hold you to them. You will be transferred from this cell to your bed-chambers, and confined there for a hundred years.'

Upon hearing those words, my first instinct was to slump in relief, but I knew I had to keep up the act. I stared at him as though having difficulty processing his words.

'Understand that I am giving you a gift. I am indulging you. If you break even _one_ of the vows you made, you will be thrown back in this cell immediately, and your sentence will be increased to five-hundred years.' He straightened up. 'Your transferral can wait until you are ready. Get some rest and let yourself heal. Once you are sufficiently recovered, the guards will come and collect you.'

'…Yes, Father,' I rasped. 'Thank – '

'Don't thank me. Thank Thor. In the face of your…actions, he insisted that I be more lenient towards you.'

His tone put a damper on my sense of triumph. He was doing this for Thor, not for me. _Oh well, no matter_. The All-Father had acquiesced to my pleas. As long as I stayed on my best behaviour, he could have no reasonable grounds on which to retract my newly-granted privileges. From here, life would be a steady (albeit incremental) uphill climb back to liberty – and perhaps, someday, a semblance of normality. All that remained was to wait.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Lots of thanks to Nako13yeh and Vi-Violence for reviewing :)**

When the time came, I was given a fresh change of clothes – my own, green and black and brown. Once again, my wrists were shackled in front of me, the enchanted chains secured by more than mere metalwork. Maintaining secrecy posed a problem, but in the end we found a solution. I cast a temporary enchantment over myself, adopting the form of one of the Einherjar and concealing the shackles from sight. Inconspicuous, we headed up several flights of steps and through an imposing pair of stone doors.

Emerging into the fresh air, I tried to stop and enjoy my first breath of freedom, but Thor nudged me onwards. We took a boat to the city, and from there walked to the palace. People's gazes slid past me without recognition or suspicion. Behind my deception, I was practically invisible. I was given little chance to absorb the sunshine or re-acquaint myself with my surroundings before I was ushered into my personal quarters. In the safety of my home, I shed my glamour and Thor released me from my shackles.

'You will be guarded at all times. Meals will be delivered three times a day,' he told me matter-of-factly. 'You are not allowed servants, so you'll have to tend your own fireplace. You will not leave these chambers – if you were to be seen roaming freely, walking the palace halls unaccompanied, the people of Asgard would think Loki had been released early. Questions would be raised. Better that we avoid unnecessary confusion.'

He paused.

'I should warn you, however, that your reputation has been greatly tarnished by what happened on Earth. Even once you are free, you will have a hard time wiping the slate clean and achieving any popularity.'

'Ignominy doesn't bother me. I'm used to being a social pariah.' I approached the balcony and breathed deep of the fresh air, basking in the bright light of the stars. After the unchanging dark of the Chitauri's homeworld and the disorientating whiteness of the cell, it was refreshing to be able to tell what time of day or night it was. 'Will you come and visit me?'

'I doubt I'll have much time. There is trouble in Nornheim and Ria. Marauders. Right now, the Nine Realms require my attention more than you do.'

'Oh.'

I must've sounded stung, for he added:

'Once these matters are settled, there will be plenty of time for us to spend together.'

'True enough. I'm not going anywhere,' I sighed. 'You can leave now.' Realising how rude my dismissal sounded, I added belatedly, 'Thank you again. For what you've done for me.'

He gave a single nod of acknowledgement and left. The moment the door closed behind him, I collapsed on the bed. My sheets hadn't been changed in two years, but I couldn't care less. I lay there breathing in their musty scent until I felt Mother's gentle hand on my shoulder.

'Are you awake?' she whispered.

'No.'

'How are you feeling?'

I rolled over and smiled up at her.

'I'm back. I couldn't be better.'

'Thor told your father and I about what happened. What you…tried to do.'

Oh yes. I'd nearly forgotten about that. _I suppose I'll have to keep up the pretence for a little while longer_.

'I wish I had been there to talk to you. To comfort you. I am sorry I was not.'

Only then did I realise I'd hurt her. Any sense of satisfaction and victory shrivelled away into guilt. I'd succeeded in bending Odin and Thor to my will, but at what cost? How Mother must've blamed herself for my actions…

'My head wasn't clear,' I said apologetically, 'My thoughts were…confused. It was a moment's recklessness which shan't be repeated. Don't worry about me.'

'If there is anything you wish to talk about – '

'I'd rather not discuss it any further. It was a mistake, nothing more. Let's speak of something else. Did you have to create a diversion and sneak in here, or did Odin give his permission?'

'The latter. Your father says we may only see each other for one hour each week.'

'Must you listen to him always?' I huffed. 'I'm your _son_, does that not give you the right to visit me whenever you wish?'

'He is the king,' she reminded me. 'And he does what he feels is best, not only for me but for you too.'

'How is separating us "for the best"?'

'He doesn't want you to get too comfortable. He worries that you may start taking your privileges for granted and become…_overconfident_.'

'And start hatching escape plans? Does he really think I'm that foolish?' I sighed. 'Mother, there's an army of Einherjar outside my door, ready to chop me into pieces if they catch so much as a _whiff_ of defiance. Unless I sprout wings and fly out of the window straight into a volley of gunship-fire, I'm not leaving these rooms.'

'I know. But all the same – be careful with your father. You've still got a lot to prove.'

The reminder of my inadequacy was an unwelcome wake-up call. No matter how cunning I was, no matter how successfully I managed to outwit Thor and even Odin, it would never be enough to give me a true advantage over them. I could win a battle, but never a war.

I stared dully at the ceiling. Sensing my resentment, she held my hand.

'Try to be good, Loki. Hostility will not earn you your father's forgiveness.'

'I don't want his forgiveness.' I jerked my hand out of hers. 'I'm not interested in grovelling. He despises me because I showed the Nine Realms what an incompetent and lacking father he is. I'm not going to bow and scrape just to soothe his wounded pride. If anyone should be seeking forgiveness, it's _him_.' I checked myself, managing to contain the stream of damning words. 'I'm sorry. I'm…in a foul mood.'

'Until the next hundred years pass, this is the closest thing to freedom you can hope for,' she said softly. 'Unless you wish to worsen your father's opinion of you, you will bear your punishment in silence.'

'I know, I know. It's just…vexing.'

Rising, I wandered across the room and browsed my bookshelf, trailing my fingertips across the row of leather-bound spines – some narrow, others broad – some smooth and rarely read, others wrinkled and well-thumbed. Slim volumes with gold-embossed titles. Huge, hefty tomes that housed a wealth of knowledge. Languages, histories, sciences, cosmologies, theologies. Bestiaries and lapidaries. Tales of the long-lost civilisations that predated the Nine Realms, and descriptions of the wars that had brought them crashing down.

In my childhood, I had sought enlightenment through these books. Mother had taught me that knowledge was power, and via knowledge I had endeavoured to make myself stronger, deadlier, _better_. Yet it had never been enough. And what had been the result? A failed attempt at elevating myself in Odin's esteem. I had dared to reach for what was far beyond me, and the fall had been hard. No-one had been there to catch me – not in any meaningful sense, at least.

'What will you do now?' Mother asked me.

'I'll read each and every book on these shelves. Then I'll read them again. Once I've tired of them, I'll test Father's patience by complaining of boredom and demanding access to the library.'

She laughed.

'Well, whatever you do, don't let your mind fall into disuse. Find ways to occupy yourself.'

'I shall, Mother,' I assured her.

We spoke for a little white longer (mostly on the rebuilding of the Bifröst, which she subtly chided me for, and other changes that had taken place in Asgard) before she decided it was time for her to go. We hugged for the first time since I'd murdered Laufey, and then I was left standing on my own with only the silence for company.

_One-hundred years. How do you make one-hundred years pass quickly?_

Briefly I entertained the thought of putting myself in some kind of stasis, casting a spell to help speed up the passage of time (a kind of Odinsleep, if you will) but I knew Father would never allow such misuse of magic. The last thing I wanted was for him to render me mortal, to deprive me of my powers as well as my liberty.

I plucked out a book at random (a treatise on the nature of dark energy) and settled down in my chair to read it.

_If this is to be my life for the next century, I may as well get used to it_.

One week passed, then another, and another. At first, the peace and quiet was enough to satisfy me; but once the joy of leaving the dungeons wore off and solitude set in, I realised that the feeling of being home was exactly that – a _feeling_. An illusion. I was no more "at home" than I'd been with the Chitauri. I was still undeniably a prisoner.

I began to yearn for Mother's company, waiting impatiently for her scheduled visits. My only other contact with the outside world was when one of the Einherjar brought me food. He never spoke to me, and never stayed for any longer than the five seconds it took to walk through the door, place the tray on the table, turn around and leave. _Perhaps if I rearrange my furniture, he'll have to walk further and stay longer_…Eight seconds of interaction were better than five, after all.

True to my word, I tried my best to keep busy. I threw myself into scholarly pursuits, reading every book I owned cover to cover, hungrily devouring the old, well-trodden information as if it were brand-new. As I sat hunched over a large tome (a compilation of ancient poetry and prose, untranslated from their original tongue) I suddenly realised what I was doing. Or rather, what I _wasn't_ doing. At this very moment, Thor was probably striding around outside in the sunlight, laughing with his friends and enjoying their company, oblivious to just how blessed he was in his freedom – while here I was, stuck within these four walls, poring over books I'd read a hundred times before, buried deep in their dusty pages and creaky leather covers.

Stopping, I stared at the plethora of books surrounding me. Neat stacks, haphazard piles. What purpose did they serve? What use was superior knowledge when I couldn't even escape a pair of shackles? An overpowering sense of futility hit me. In disgust, I slammed the compendium shut and tossed it onto a nearby heap.

_They're nothing. Nothing but ink and paper. Worthless_.

I spent the rest of that day in sullen contemplation, watching life in Asgard continue outside my windows and feeling overwhelmingly disconnected from it. Slowly but surely, like the inevitable thaw of winter's ice, my mind turned towards thoughts of vengeance. Imaginary arguments which I won. Bitter fantasies in which Thor lay broken at my feet. My pent-up anger begged to be vented, yet there was nothing I could do but continue to repress it. No hope of ever finding satisfaction. I was utterly helpless.

_Unless_…

After an hour or so of deep thought, a smile came to my face. My spirits lifted. Pouring myself a cup of honey-wine, I cheerfully resumed my reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you to lunerwerewolf, Vi-Violence, Sumi Anzu, Nako13yeh, Harold, lokiD and boukenbee for reviewing :)**

That evening, my supper was delivered by Mother herself, rather than by the guard. Surprised by her arrival, I dumped the book I was reading and rose to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.

'What is this? A reward for managing not to cause trouble?' I asked flippantly, looking down at the laden tray she bore. 'I suppose a month _is_ a milestone…I've behaved myself remarkably well, haven't I?'

'Yes, you have, Loki,' she said patiently, setting the tray down on the table and removing the lids from the dishes. A variety of delicious aromas greeted me. My meals were a vast improvement now that the food came direct from the palace kitchens, and even more so since Mother had a hand in them. Feeling genuinely grateful, I helped myself to a portion of each. 'You look very refreshed,' Mother remarked.

'I had a bath.'

'Good. I couldn't think of a tactful way of telling you, but you were starting to become…untidy.'

'Unsanitary, you mean.' I poured myself a cup of wine and sipped it. 'By the way, Mother, I've been wondering if I might ask you a favour.'

'You may certainly ask, but whether I can grant it is an entirely different matter.'

'Well.' I munched innocently on a slice of fruit pie. 'I know Thor has been busy of late, but I was wondering if you might persuade him to come and visit me. I'm not sure _why_ I wish to see him; I suppose it's unlikely we'll have much to talk about. But then again, I _have_ been gone a long time. It's a little embarrassing to say out loud, but I almost…miss him a little. Perhaps if he could drop by for a few minutes – '

'Loki,' she interrupted. 'I know you don't miss Thor. If you did, you would've mentioned his name long before now.'

My heart sank. _So much for my scheme_. She must've misinterpreted my expression of defeat as one of genuine disappointment, for she softened and added:

'But if you truly wish to see him, then I shall indeed "persuade" him, as you put it. But Loki…' she placed a hand on my shoulder. 'Don't do anything regrettable. You'll only hurt yourself as well as us. And please, _do not_ make a habit of demanding favours.'

'I'm not "demanding" anything. Merely requesting.'

'Perhaps that's how you see it, but it's different from our perspective.'

I nodded gravely, but could barely suppress my grin until she'd left the room. I'd successfully navigated the first hurdle, and excitement was growing inside me.

I waited. In due course, Thor came.

'Loki,' he greeted me cautiously. 'Mother said you wished to speak with me.'

'Yes, there's something I…want to ask you. Do you have time to talk?'

'I suppose so.'

His readiness was promising. _At least he's willing to listen_.

'What exactly happened to me on Midgard? I want to hear it from you, not from Frigga.'

'Are you sure you wish to know?' he sounded sceptical. 'Would it not be…strange? Would it not pain you to hear of the things you did?'

'Not as much as it pains me to remain in ignorance. Surely there's no harm in me knowing.'

And so he told me. At great length. Many of his words drifted meaninglessly past me, but I gleaned important nuggets of information. I had tried to murder him twice. I had used the Tesseract to open a doorway for the Chitauri horde. I had been defeated by a group of self-styled heroes…_Avengers. How very pretentious_. I nodded and listened until he was done.

'Does this sate your curiosity?' he asked me.

'A little.' I slowly wandered around the chamber, processing what I'd learned. 'I failed them, then. The Chitauri. I was unsuccessful in fulfilling my end of the bargain and delivering the Cube to them. I'm amazed they let me live.'

'They didn't have a chance to exact vengeance upon you; the Chitauri were wiped out. Their assault on Midgard led to their own annihilation. You need fear no retribution from them.'

I breathed a sigh of relief. My pursuers were long dead and gone.

'Is this the end of your questions? If so, I should leave.'

'Actually, there is something else I've been meaning to ask you about.' I fidgeted my hands, feigning anxiety. 'The…_other Loki_. I want to know everything. Describe him to me. What is he like, what is his manner? How similar is he to me, and how different?'

'He is identical to you. A little more haggard, perhaps…'

'Is he well cared-for in the dungeons?'

'I cannot answer that. I've never been to visit him myself. Mother has; perhaps she could tell you.'

'Mother visits him too?' The thought had never occurred to me. I was a little taken aback.

'Of course she does. For better or for worse, she cares about him…about both of you.'

'But she hasn't told him anything about me?'

'Correct.'

'I see.' I paused. 'Do you think I could meet him?'

'Meet him? For what purpose?' Thor looked suspicious.

'To speak to him. To understand why he – why _I_ did those things on Earth.'

'No. Absolutely not.'

'I won't try anything foolish,' I promised. 'You can send as many guards as you want to accompany me. Besides, they needn't be long visits, I wouldn't ask for more than a few minutes outside the palace – '

'It's an unnecessary risk.'

'Could you at least _consider_ my request before refusing it?'

'There is nothing to consider. The answer is no.'

I injected a touch of desperation into my voice.

'But do you not think that it might _help_ him? To meet his previous self? To hear what I have to say? Perhaps if I spoke to him, he might be reminded of his old life and yearn to return to it. Do you not think I might do him good – do us _both_ good?'

'You think you can change him?' Thor snorted bitterly. 'Impossible. He's beyond aid. You would be wasting your time.'

I didn't reply immediately. For some reason, I couldn't think of anything to say. As I stared at my brother and his words sank in, I realised what I was feeling: _hurt_. Hurt that Thor could speak of me in such cold, damning and hostile terms. Hurt that he could give up on me so easily.

'Is that your true opinion of me? You think I'm a hopeless case, so far-gone that I am unworthy of aid?'

He hesitated. Knowing I'd found traction, I seized the opportunity and went on:

'If you had _one chance_ to save me from self-destruction, would you not take it? Or would you not even try?'

'Of course I would try…'

'Then why are you so swift to abandon me?'

I could tell he was torn.

'Please, let me talk to him. I _need_ this.'

My entreaty was all it took to tip the scales in my favour. Thor may not have been as gullible as he once was, but he still hated to see me plead.

'Alright. I'll take this matter to Father and see what he thinks.'

_Oh, of course. He's incapable of making decisions on his own without consulting Odin first. How very dutiful_. Hiding my scorn, I bowed my head in fake gratitude and thanked him.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks to Nako13yeh for reviewing.**

In the three days that followed Thor's visit, I fully expected Odin to show up and demand to know what my plan was, but to my astonishment he didn't. Perhaps he wanted to test the sincerity of my intentions, or perhaps he was just sick of the sight of me and didn't want to get involved. Either way, he actually seemed to place his trust in Thor's judgment for once, and didn't feel the need to come and bombard me with questions.

On the third evening, just as I was finishing my supper and contemplating an early sleep, Thor brought the good news:

'The answer is yes. But before you congratulate yourself too highly, know this: I'm not taking chances with anybody's safety. I will come with you.'

'I'd expected as much.'

Yet again, the shackles were brought out. Accompanied by my brother and the Einherjar, I was led in disguise to the dungeons. Once the stone doors had grinded shut behind us, Thor surprised me by freeing my hands. I gave him a questioning look, to which he responded:

'If he thinks you're weak, he'll use your weakness against you.'

Deeper and deeper below ground we went, until finally we arrived at the lowest level of the dungeons. Here they housed not petty criminals, but Marauders and murderers. Internally, I was already rehearsing the things I would say, the questions I would ask; trying to organise my thoughts. I couldn't help but feel a little nervous, unable to quite wrap my head around the concept of meeting _myself_.

As the corner-cell furthest on the right came into view, I knew instantly who it belonged to. Mother's touch was everywhere – in the small but luxurious bed, the elegant wash-basin, the slender-legged wooden table upon which stood the carafe of wine and bowl of berries. Sure enough, lounging in a chair reading a book was…_me_.

'Hello.' Nothing had prepared me for the sound of my voice coming from another person's mouth. He was comfortably dressed in clean clothes, legs outstretched upon a footstool, ankles crossed in a nonchalant manner. 'Oh, I'm sorry – were you expecting me to faint in shock? They already warned me you were coming. I admit I was…_confused_ when they explained the situation to me. But I suppose I should thank you. If not for you, Thor would never have come to visit me.'

I realised I'd stopped breathing. I took a steeling breath, exhaled slowly…

'Hello,' I replied.

My doppelgänger – or was I _his_ doppelgänger? – rose from his seat and approached the barrier. I felt Thor instinctively tense at my side, his grip on Mjölnir's handle tightening.

'Come closer.'

As if magnetically drawn, I complied. Keeping his hands clasped behind his back, he leaned down to inspect me. Our faces were inches apart. Meeting his gaze was like looking in a mirror.

'You look well-fed. I assume they're taking good care of you?'

'Yes. They've allowed me back into the palace.'

'I see.' A flash of something – jealousy? – crossed his face. He straightened up. 'So. To what do I owe this pleasure?'

'I wanted to see you with my own eyes.'

'And now you've seen me. May I be left in peace now?'

Turning to Odinson, I asked quietly:

'Could you give us a moment? I don't think he will speak freely in front of you.'

Thor looked reluctant.

'The Einherjar can stay,' I offered.

'Very well. I'll be close by,' he said – more of a warning than a reassurance – and retreated to a distance of perhaps twenty paces.

'What happened to you?' I asked bluntly.

'_A lot_ has happened to me.'

'I mean when I – when _we_ escaped. What became of you?'

He looked a little taken aback by the forthrightness of my question, but gave a soft snort of laughter.

'Things didn't turn out quite so well for me as they did for you,' he said, '_You_ found your way home to Asgard – well done, very clever…while _I_ was left behind. Alone. Friendless. Abandoned.'

'You were re-captured?'

He dropped his gaze, examining the floor.

'Yes.'

'What did they do to you?' I breathed.

'They…expanded my mind. I could feel myself weakening…crumbling. I was coming apart at the seams, my mind fracturing into unsalvageable pieces. But then they healed me.' He slowly paced around the cell. 'I was lost, but in the Tesseract's embrace, I found myself again. While _you_ were still busy passing through space and time, _I_ was being taught the secrets of the sceptre. Do you remember it? The feel of its power, the lure of its light?'

I stared at him._ Is this…me? Is this what I would've become?_

'The Cube gave me new life. All my weakness, my sentimentality, was stripped away. I _grew_ in my exile. I became strong – strong enough to take my life into my own hands. The Chitauri helped me on my new path to glory. They gave me the willpower to harden my heart, to cast aside all weaknesses and doubts and fears, to take the sceptre and claim my birthright…claim the throne.'

'Except you failed,' I interrupted. 'You were defeated and now here you are. A rat in a cage.'

'Here _we_ are,' he corrected me with a snarl. 'Just because they let you walk around, doesn't mean you are free.'

'Perhaps weaknesses and doubts and fears are good for something – they stop you from reaching too high above your station. You and I…we were never meant to be king. _Ever_. But you just couldn't accept that, could you?'

'Don't tell me you don't still crave power,' he spat.

'Not as much as I crave _home_. Perhaps if you'd shared the same feeling, you wouldn't now be trapped down here, buried beneath miles of rock and dirt. Abandoned. Unwanted. Tell me, when was the last time you met Frigga in the flesh? Does she ever visit you in person? No, only as an illusion. _I_ am the one she embraces, the one she showers with affection…'

'Why have you come here?' he demanded, rounding on me and raising his voice. I flinched back. 'Ah, I see. You came here to assess the opposition. You think of me as an obstacle – a rival – and you wanted to gauge whether I would be a threat to you or not.' He looked bitterly amused. 'And if I _were_ a threat? What then? Would you kill me?'

My mouth moved without noise. He had read me like a book.

'Did you honestly believe that eliminating me would redeem you in our family's eyes, and solve all your problems forever? That by ending my existence, you would validate your own? Are you truly that naïve?'

He laughed at me. My hands were trembling. The silent guards watched and listened, but offered no support.

'Surely you must know that _you_ are the root of all our deeds, not _I_. Everything we did, everything that happened to us, began with you. All of this – ' he gestured around the dungeon ' – is the fruit of your labour.'

Shifting his gaze from me to Thor, he shouted over my head:

'Take care, Odinson! Don't put your trust in a liar. His heart is every inch as rotten as mine.'

Thor came over, scowling. He grasped my arm with a heavy hand and pulled me away from the barrier. I allowed him to, stumbling blindly, unable to tear my eyes from The Other Loki.

'That's enough,' he rumbled. 'You've had your talk. Come away, Loki.'

'He's already wormed his way back into your goodwill,' The Other Loki called after us. 'Watch out for a knife in your back, brother!'

'Are you satisfied now?' Thor muttered in my ear. 'I warned you it would be a waste of your time.'

I couldn't answer. My mind was still reeling. What had they done to me, to transform me into that…that _thing_, that creature? I had no way of knowing – and somehow, ignorance was worse than knowledge. I felt sick. Had they tortured me into submission, broken me with pain and fear? Or had I acquiesced and gone happily to subjugate a realm of mortals, sceptre in hand, of my own free will? Had I voluntarily let the Tesseract claim me? I shuddered.

'Loki,' Thor dragged my attention back to the present. 'We are returning to the palace.'

I realised we were almost out of the dungeons and I'd forgotten to don my disguise. Hastily I cloaked myself with a glamour, and allowed Thor to guide me onto a boat.

I could not…no, I _would_ not allow myself to turn into that monster. He was a part of me, yes, but a part of me I didn't want. A poisoned limb that needed to be amputated.

_The person sitting in that cell is not me. He is a stranger…an enemy_._ I will not become him. I will change for the better. From now on, I will be good_.

_But first, there is something I must do_.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you to Nako13yeh, goldfusion, boukenbee and angrbodagiantess for reviewing :)**

Thor looked aghast when I asked him when I might visit the dungeons again.

'Surely you cannot still believe he is worth your while,' he said. 'You must see now how hopelessly lost he is.'

'To the contrary, I think his antagonism is merely a façade. I'm quite confident I can find a way around it.'

I was gently insistent, and in the end he consented. So the next week, I spoke to The Other Loki again; and the next, and the next. He made no secret of his annoyance and contempt, but no matter how antagonistic and scornful he was, no matter how discouraging Thor and Frigga were, I persisted in visiting him. My plan would take perseverance, effort, and above all, _time_. I could not afford to rush this.

Sometimes he refused to acknowledge my presence at all and simply ignored my cautious greetings, but sometimes I was able to coax him into conversation. Though the very sight and sound of him were unnatural, I forced myself to wear an amiable smile. We talked about various things, including the Chitauri, the Avengers, and the prisoners in the neighbouring cells who annoyed him greatly with their inane chatter and occasional taunts. I brought him news of what was going on in the Nine Realms, and in return he tolerated my presence.

Thor wasn't always with me. His business with the Marauders kept him away, and I was allowed to visit the dungeons with only a contingent of Einherjar to eavesdrop on me. In a way, The Other Loki was helpless. As long as I had permission to visit, there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop me talking to him.

Little by little, one small step at a time, I insinuated myself into his goodwill. I brought him books – ones he'd requested, not ones Mother had sanctioned. I even brought him aromatherapeutic candles to burn, and a potion to help him sleep better at night. Gradually, his hostility abated. He didn't _like_ me by any means, but he was grateful for my gifts and the small nuggets of friendship I brought him. It was obvious that he resented my autonomy and envied my freedom, but at the same time he savoured the chance to have someone else to talk to. Apart from Mother, I was his only real link to the outside world, and through me he was able to taste the liberty which he so craved.

I made a point of letting Thor and Frigga know what I was doing. They didn't exactly _approve_ of my actions, but nor did they order me to stop. I spoke near-constantly of how The Other Loki was beginning to confide in me.

Finally, after several weeks, I knew I was ready. The time had come, and to delay any longer would simply be procrastination.

The next time Odinson happened to pass by my chambers (probably to fill me in on matters in Nornheim or something equally tedious) I pulled him aside.

'Thor, before you speak, there's something I need to tell you.'

'About what?'

'Something that's been troubling me. You recall I visited Loki the day before yesterday? Well, while I was there, talking to him, he proposed a scheme. He asked me to have a hand in it.'

'What do you mean? To help him escape?' Thor's brow darkened.

'No, not to escape. He…he instructed me to kill you.'

'What!'

I began to speak quickly, as if I'd been holding these words in for too long and now they were pouring out.

'It was my fault, I gave him the impression I was his friend, I made him think we were allies. He must've seen an opportunity, because he started getting ideas, he started talking about how easy it would be to enter your chambers while you slept and cut your throat. He even recommended what knife I should use…'

'Loki asked this of you?' Thor growled.

'Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have befriended him. In fact, I shouldn't have spoken to him at all. Visiting him was a mistake.'

'No. Don't apologise. _He_ is the one at fault, not you.' I jumped in genuine surprise when Thor placed a hand on my shoulder. 'You were right to confess this to me. Thank you, Loki.'

And there it was. Fruition. Weeks of hard labour had paid off. After I'd savoured the moment of victory, I asked in a timid tone:

'What will you do with him?'

'Punish him, most definitely. He tried to use you against me, and that is inexcusable.'

Thor strode off. Before a half-hour had elapsed, Mother came to gently reassure me I'd made the right choice, and to tell me how proud she was. Those words – so infrequently spoken by her and Father, at least in regards to me – were enough to turn my pretence of tearfulness into a reality. Her misled gratitude was the closest I'd ever come to making her genuinely proud, and I cherished it.

_Now, at last, I can be happy_.

But I couldn't resist one final visit to the dungeons. When I got there, Loki's cell was utterly bare. No books, no furnishings, not even a blanket. My doppelgänger was sitting on the floor, resting against the wall. He was unhurt as far as I could tell, but hollow-eyed and haggard.

'You told them lies about me,' he said dully.

'I did what I had to do,' I replied, casting a temporary veil of silence over us to render our conversation inaudible to the Einherjar. 'Did they hurt you?'

'Not physically. But look at where I am now.' He waved a limp hand, indicating the cell. 'This is meant to be my home for the rest of eternity and it's…empty.'

'There are worse punishments.'

'Not for me. Mother…Mother reproached me. Quite rigorously. She says she won't speak to me until I see the error of my ways. I protested my innocence, but nobody listened or believed.'

'Well, who could blame them? You're not exactly known for your _honesty_. You said it yourself: don't put your trust in a liar.'

He snorted quietly. Asked:

'Why did you do it?'

'To prove myself to them. They think I've done a good deed, and I'm being rewarded for it.' I raised up my hands. 'Look. No shackles. Unlike you.'

'All this for a little extra comfort? You condemned me to a lifetime of loneliness just so you could enjoy a few more privileges?' He leaned forwards slightly. 'I _never_ told you to kill Thor. _Ever_. I'm not that reckless and I'm not that stupid.'

'You were stupid enough to trust me.'

He slumped back against the wall.

'Yes. Yes, I was. I thought your actions were born of kindness and a need for companionship. You were a nuisance, but a harmless one. I thought you genuinely wanted a friend.'

'Well, I didn't. I merely wanted a chance to display my loyalty to my family.'

'I suppose you've come to offer me some kind of deal? You'll tell them the truth as long as I help you escape, or something of that nature?'

'Oh, no, no. I've merely come to rub salt in the wound. Poor Frigga must be so disappointed in you. How does it feel knowing all your loved ones think you're _scum?_'

He didn't even have the energy to rise. I'd taken away his only comforts, and worse yet, I'd robbed him of Frigga's company. He was visibly broken, and I took a kind of vindictive pleasure in the sight of his defeat. Softly he said:

'You will regret doing this.'

It was my turn to scoff.

'And how exactly do you intend to make good on that promise? You have no allies any more. Nobody to care for you or do your bidding. You're on your own.'

I didn't bother to bid him farewell, and left without another word. I had no further use for him – he'd served my purpose and now I washed my hands of him.

Life was better after that. Thor and Frigga's visits became more frequent, which told me that Odin had softened towards me, and the way that they treated me was noticeably different. I wasn't _forgiven_ by any stretch of the imagination, but I'd impressed them by refusing to be swayed by The Other Loki's mischief-making, or to allow myself to relapse into my old treacherous ways. In their eyes, I'd done the right thing, the noble thing. I'd raised myself in their esteem.

_Suddenly, one-hundred years doesn't seem so bad after all._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Lots of thanks to Loveallcats13, boukenbee, Nako13yeh, Jessibelle88, goldfusion, Harolda and Fan for reviewing :)**

The knock on the door came when I was hunched over my writing-table, my ink-quill scratching against a sheet of parchment as I scribbled away. It was a mere two knocks, brisk and rather rude.

'Come in,' I called without lifting my head.

I had found a new hobby: transcribing Asgardian books from their original runic script into into various, obscure languages. Pointless, yes, but intellectually stimulating. I glanced up just in time to see Odin step through the doorway.

'All-Father.' Shocked, I jumped to my feet, holding the book protectively to my belly. 'What do you want?' _He knows, he knows, he knows I lied, he's going to throw me back in the dungeons for five-hundred years…_

'I came to see how you were.'

'Oh.' _He doesn't know_. Slightly embarrassed but enormously relieved, I tucked my book under my arm and waited to see what he had to say. Admittedly, it _had_ been a while since we'd last seen each other – it was only natural that he would want to check up on me, if only to reassure himself that I was still a helpless captive. 'Please…come in.'

He stepped further into the room.

'Are you coping?' he asked.

'What do you mean?'

'With imprisonment. With the length of time you are bound to remain here. How do you fare? Have you come to terms with it?'

'Well…yes, I suppose. It's not so bad.'

He raised an eyebrow.

'…I mean, it _is_ bad, but it's not as bad as it could've been. And as for length, well.' I shrugged. 'I'm keeping track of the days. I've served four months so far, and I have another thousand-and-ninety-six months to go. Putting a number to it makes it seem more…manageable.'

'Manageable, but not pleasant.'

'Precisely.'

We stood in silence. His eye roamed around my bed-chamber, taking note of the clothes slung over the chair, the wine I'd been drinking, what I'd been reading…

'And you?' I asked cautiously. His inscrutable gaze returned to me. 'Are you in good health?'

'Yes. I am.' Something about the way he said it sounded like a subtle threat, as if he were warning me not to underestimate him.

'…Good.'

'Do you have plans for tomorrow?' he enquired.

_Plans…such as? Lying in bed? Killing insects on the balcony?_

'No…not really.'

'In that case, would you be willing to join Frigga, Thor and myself for breakfast tomorrow morning?'

'You must be joking.' My hands fell limply to my sides. 'Are you in earnest?'

'Yes.'

'But you said it yourself: I'm not to leave these chambers. _Ever_. I thought that was the whole _point_ of being locked up…'

'You had no problem visiting the dungeons. Why do you quail from the thought of visiting the breakfast-table?'

'That was one thing. This is another entirely.'

'So your answer is "no"?'

'I – ' I floundered. When was the last time I'd eaten a meal with my family? Not at some great banquet or other event, but in private? If I said yes, then for the first time in years – possibly for the first time in my _adulthood_ – we would be sitting together, sharing a table. 'I…yes. I'll join you.'

He nodded slightly, satisfied, and left. My heart was pounding in my chest. Part of me felt _offended_ by Odin's visit. This was the last place in the Nine Realms where I had any sense of privacy or security, and he thought he could simply barge in unannounced and unwelcome? Was it an attempt to be friendly? To be _fatherly?_

Our unexpected conversation soured my mood for the rest of the day, but I knew it was too late to change my answer. So, after a sleepless night, I found myself sitting beside Thor and opposite our parents, my ankles shackled beneath the table, forcing myself to finish a plate of salad despite my lack of appetite. I couldn't help but notice how their eyes followed me whenever I picked up the knife to cut the meat, as if they subconsciously expected me to go wild and stab someone to death with it. _They still don't trust me_.

'Are none of us to speak until the meal is over?' Odin eventually broke the silence.

I glanced sideways at Thor, but he kept his eyes on his food. Either he was oblivious to the taut atmosphere, or he was keeping his feelings to himself.

'Name a subject,' I replied almost challengingly.

'Very well. Have you given any thought to what you will do once you are free? By that time, you may have paid thoroughly for your wrongdoings, but you will still be remembered as the fallen prince who waged war against Midgard.'

'A crime of which I am innocent,' I reminded him.

'Indeed. But be that as it may, you will still need to win back the favour of the people.'

'What do you suggest?' I tore a bread roll in half.

'Perhaps if you were to go to Earth and make reparations with the humans. Offer them your apologies and your friendship. Such an act would go a long way in restoring goodwill.'

Thor turned his gaze to me expectantly, still munching away.

'I won't bow and scrape to a pack of mortals,' I muttered. 'Besides, I care not for popularity. As long as I'm free again, what does it matter if there are statues built in my honour or not?'

'That is your choice,' said Odin rather coldly. 'But nevertheless, I would encourage you to make your remorse known.'

I said nothing. He waited, but when it became apparent that I wasn't going to reply, he carried on eating. The lack of conversation was deafening, a quiet broken only by the chinking of cutlery. I couldn't think of a damn thing to say. My gaze flickered to Mother, trying to alert her to my discomfort, but all she did was smile reassuringly.

'I can't bear this,' slipped from my mouth. 'I'm sorry but I can't. I'm happy for the measure of freedom you've given me and I'm very grateful, but I'd rather be alone with my books than be sitting here trying to make small-talk with _you_. At times like this, I almost _miss_ being locked up in my cell or stranded on the Chitauri's rock – at least _then_ I wasn't forced into conversations against my will.' I turned to Mother. 'May I leave?'

'Of course you may,' she quietly responded. 'But can you eat a little first? You've barely touched a mouthful.'

'I've no appetite.' I pushed my chair backwards and stood up, chains clanking too loudly. Odin said nothing. I stared at him. 'Well? Aren't you going to order me to sit back down? I thought you _wanted_ me here. I thought you _wanted_ to – '

'Your mother asked me to invite you,' he interrupted. 'She said it would be good for you, and for me.'

_That_ was like a punch to the face.

'Oh, I see. So you never really wanted to spend time with me at all? You were just doing it to humour _her?_ All this – ' I indicated the table with a sweeping motion ' – all this was for _her?_'

'No. That is not what I said. The decision was mine to make, and I made it. Frigga merely encouraged me – '

'_Because she's a fool!_'

'Loki.' His tone remained calm, quiet. 'Do not _ever_ speak of your mother that way in front of me. Not while you are at my mercy, nor while you are free. Do you understand?'

His composure only served to increase my anger.

'Why are you doing this?' I demanded. 'Are you testing me? Are you trying to see if I'll…I'll kill Thor, or jump out of that window, or _something?_ Is that what this is? A test? Are you _deliberately_ provoking me?'

'No.'

'What then?'

'I merely wanted you to spend some time with your family. I thought you'd earned a little kindness after what you did for Thor. I do not lightly forgive your wrongs, but nor will I ignore your good deeds…'

'Time with my family? Perhaps you should've taken that into consideration before you locked me up for a century!' I raised my voice further.

'Loki,' Frigga said softly. 'Loki, try to – '

'And please, Mother, _don't_ expect me to be _pleasant_.' I shoved my chair under the table. 'I'm done.'

The Einherjar led me from the room in chains. It was humiliating having to walk around like that, but I took consolation in the fact that this area of the palace had been emptied in order to clear a path for me, so the minimum number of people bore witness to my hobbled shuffling.

'Brother!'

I glanced back. Thor was following us. I had no desire to stop and listen to his self-righteous lecturing, but the Einherjar dutifully slowed, forcing me to wait until he'd caught up with us. Just in case his greeting was a punch, I turned my face away pre-emptively.

'Well? Have they sent you to knock some sense into me?'

'No, actually, you forgot your breakfast.' He held out my plate, which he'd piled high with extra foodstuffs. 'I thought you might enjoy it better in your own chambers.' I accepted it with cautious thanks.

'Are they angry?' I asked.

'Father is. Mother, well, I'm not sure. She never seems to be angry with you. She's not pleased with your behaviour, but I think she blames herself for putting you in an uncomfortable situation.'

'I didn't mean it – what I said about her. You'll tell her that, won't you?'

'Why don't you tell her yourself?'

'Somehow I doubt Odin will be inviting me to family gatherings again any time soon. I suppose it'll be a while before reconciliation is possible.'

'If so, you brought it on your own head with your rudeness,' he pointed out.

'Maybe. But still, don't let my words fester,' I said contritely. 'I spoke in anger. We all do – some more than others. Let Mother know I'm sorry.'

'I will.'

'…What about you?' I ventured to ask, half-dreading the answer. 'Are you angry?'

'Would it matter at all to you if I was? Anyhow.' He gestured to the plate. 'Don't forget to eat. Put some meat on your bones…'

He returned the way he'd come. I let my apologetic expression slide away into open irritation.

'Hurry up, will you,' I snapped to my armoured escorts, growing sick of the sight of these gilded halls. If this was what freedom and family entailed – constant discomfort and painfully awkward conversations – then I'd happily live a life of solitude. Now, I couldn't _wait_ to get back to my chambers.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you to Fan, Nako13yeh and LokiD for reviewing :)**

To put it simply, we made up for lost time.

I knew how Thor felt. After his failure with The Other Loki, he saw in me a chance to fix what was broken, to repair a bond that had long-since been lost. He perceived in me a goodness (or perhaps even an innocence) that was absent in my doppelgänger. And so, my redemption became his quest in life. All those things we'd never done, all those conversations we'd never had…all the times he had ignored me or insulted me…now came our chance to finally _do things right_.

I still had to rein in my sharp tongue, still had to behave myself outwardly; but on the whole, I was happy. Breakfast with my family became a regular occurrence. I took care to be civil and outwardly respectful towards Odin, and slowly – _very_ slowly – he began to be a little friendlier towards me. Less cold, less distrustful. Mother encouraged me every step of the way, nurturing me through the occasional stumble or slip-up.

Six months after my return from the abyss, I found myself curled up in my favourite seat, poring over a medical encyclopaedia written in an ancient Ljósálf tongue, nodding along to Thor's tedious small-talk without really paying attention.

'Loki,' Thor prodded me. 'Are you listening?'

'Mm-hm?' I looked up from the book's pages.

'I said, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. Now that the skirmishes in Nornheim are ended and our armies have returned home, the time has come to celebrate. I was wondering if you might join me, Sif and the Warriors Three for a drink. Spend a little time with us.'

'You've told them about me?' I said incredulously.

'No,' he admitted, 'I've told no-one. But I'm certain that once I've explained everything to them, they will be open to the idea of meeting you.'

I sighed. _So naïve_.

'Are you asking me to leave the palace? You do recall I'm a _prisoner_, don't you?'

'Of course,' he hastened to clarify. 'But we needn't leave. We could simply find a quiet corner and talk. Reminisce. Share battle stories like we used to. Those were good times, were they not? You laughed along with the rest of us.'

'Did I? I can't recall. I laughed _at_ you, certainly…'

'Whatever the case, what say you? Do you not wish to reunite with our friends?'

I hesitated. Dare I refuse? All it needed was one wrong move or bad decision on my part, and I would lose all the trust and goodwill I'd managed to garner. I would have to start all over again from scratch.

'…Must I?' I said reluctantly. 'I'd rather not sit through another agonising conversation. Besides, what if tongues wag? What if one of them decides they're unhappy with a traitor being housed in their midst, and decides to tell all of Asgard about it? You and Odin may trust them, but _I_ don't.'

He nodded understandingly, but I could tell he was disappointed.

'So...you will not meet with us?'

'The idea of attending the revelries _does_ hold some attraction, I'll admit. But in the company of those four? They are _your_ friends, not mine.' I tried to make it sound like a statement rather than a censure, but my voice betrayed me by shaking. '_Never_ mine. They betrayed me, you know. I was king by right, yet they treated me as a usurper. I haven't forgotten that.'

'Are you certain you cannot forgive them?'

I shook my head ruefully.

'I've hated them for a very long time, Thor. A hatred like that is difficult to let go of. Some things change in the blink of an eye. Others…don't.

'I see.' His expression turned solemn. 'Do you still hate Father?'

My instinctive reaction was one of suspicion – _is it a trick question?_ – but his gaze was earnest.

'I don't know,' I muttered. 'Sometimes, I suppose. When I'm angry.'

'But not always?'

'…No. Not always.'

'Perhaps that's a good sign.' He smiled at me. At that moment there was a knock on the door. 'Yes?' he called, and an Einherjar entered, bowing.

'My prince, may we speak outside? There is a matter which must be brought to your attention.'

Thor nodded.

'Sorry, brother, I have business to attend to.'

'That's alright. I'm not going anywhere.'

The pair of them left. I settled down in expectation of a long wait, but to my surprise, only a half-hour or so elapsed before Thor returned. He entered slowly, not looking at me.

'What's wrong, brother?' I asked blithely. 'What did the guard want?'

'He wanted to speak to me,' Thor said slowly, 'He said there was an urgent matter of which he felt obligated to inform me – something which had lain heavy on his conscience for weeks, but he had kept to himself until now.'

'And?' I said curiously. 'What was this urgent matter?'

'A matter of betrayal.'

'Oh? Tell me more.'

Thor closed the door behind him with a strange finality, turned to me and looked me straight in the eyes. I could see the depths of his disillusionment.

'He told me that he was present during each of your visits to the dungeons, and that at no point during any of those visits did Loki ever plot my murder. According to him, Loki is completely innocent of the charge you laid against him. So – did you lie?'

I couldn't breathe.

'I'm sorry?' I whispered, playing for time. 'What did you ask me?'

'I said, _did you lie?_ Was it a ruse all along?'

His eyes were pleading with me to say No, to say it wasn't true, but my mind had frozen over into a black pool of horror. Thor took my silence for an answer.

'You lied to me. I should've known. I should've known you would have nobody's interests at heart but your own.'

'Please.' I licked my lips. 'Don't tell Father. He doesn't need to know. You can deal with me without his knowledge.'

'What do you expect me to do? Keep him in the dark? You _lied_ to us. _Again_.'

'A single lie! Everything else was true and honest,' I protested. 'Please, brother. I'll lose everything if you tell him. He'll – '

'Do you take me for a fool?' Thor interrupted harshly. 'Do you think I will allow your deceit to go unpunished? Do you think I will _reward_ you for being a traitor?'

'But Father doesn't need to know! Besides, what are you going to do? Drag me before the king, in front of the entire court, where I'll be seen by all of Asgard? Even _you_ couldn't be so stupid.' I said the wrong thing, and regretted it immediately.

'I will ensure that you face the justice you deserve.' He turned away. 'Besides, I've already summoned Father. He should be here any moment.'

Part of me felt _betrayed_ that Thor hadn't taken my side. He hadn't tried to help me, he hadn't tried to understand me. He'd just thrown me to the wolves and abandoned me to my fate – which was now entirely in Odin's hands. I made one final effort.

'You can still save me. Tell Father the guard lied – '

'You want me to _save_ you? You are beyond saving.'

'You're not listening to me! If – '

'Be silent.'

It galled me to obey, but I knew I'd had no choice. I'd made a vow to be good, and I'd broken that vow. I had no reason to expect forgiveness.

No sooner had those two words left Thor's mouth than the All-Father arrived.

'Is it true?' he enquired of Thor, who nodded grimly. I dropped my gaze to avoid eye-contact with them, and tried to compose myself, taking deep, shaky breaths. 'Well?' Odin prompted me. 'Have you nothing to say in your defence?'

I shook my head mutely. What could I possibly say?

'Speak,' Odin commanded me. 'I am giving you a chance to defend yourself. Use it.'

I looked miserably at my brother for help, but none was forthcoming. I was on my own.

'The guard was telling the truth,' I mumbled. 'I lied about Loki. I did it for revenge.'

'Revenge for what? Did he wrong you?'

'No. Not in any meaningful sense. But I wanted to hurt him for…for being _me_. For taking my place while I was gone.'

'Is that the only reason why you did it?'

'No,' I confessed, 'I did it to please you. I thought if I was seen taking Thor's side, it would make you feel more kindly towards me.'

'What you are trying to say,' Odin said coldly, 'is that you acted upon a selfish impulse. By slandering Loki, you caused him – _and_ Frigga – no small amount of anguish.'

'I just wanted to be home with my family. I just wanted to make you and Mother love me again.'

'By tricking and deceiving us?'

'I didn't know what else to do.' My voice cracked uncontrollably. Thor looked disgusted. 'Listen, I've learned my lesson. Don't send me back to the dungeons.'

'Everything that happens to you now, you've brought upon yourself. You broke your promises.'

'I understand. Just please let me stay in the palace, let me stay close to you and Mother. I don't want to go back to the dungeons, I don't want to be on my own again. At least give me that.'

'You knew the terms of our agreement. No more tricks, no more betrayals. I gave you a chance and you squandered it pointlessly.'

There was no arguing with that.I knew in my heart that begging and persuasion were futile, so I braced myself and waited for him to pass sentence._ He's going to cage me and throw away the key, he's going to bury me in the bowels of Asgard_...

'You will remain here for the timebeing,' he informed me.

'What!' Thor exclaimed. 'Father, you cannot possibly – '

'First I will go to _our_ Loki and hear his side of the story.' Odin's one-eyed stare pierced me. 'Afterwards, I will decide what to do with you.'


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! Lots of thanks to Fan, goldfusion, legion111, boukenbee, Guest, Sumi Anzu, angrbodagiantess and Lily for reviewing :). P.S. Sumi, "supper" means an evening meal :)**

I was left alone.

In the wake of panic came anger. Anger at Odin and his oaf of a son for their unfairness, and anger at myself for my recklessness. Why had I been such a fool? Why had I endangered everything for the sake of playing one final trick? Had it really been worth it just to spite The Other Loki? I'd grown too comfortable, too complacent…and then, when confronted, I'd lost my composure and handled the situation terribly. Now it was too late to make a difference – the All-Father was doubtless interrogating his prisoner at this very moment, and would return shortly.

I was terrified.

A quarter of an hour elapsed, and with every passing minute my anxiety increased. Odin's investigation would be brief – I couldn't imagine that he would spend very long talking to The Other Loki. Any moment now, they were going to storm in, seize me and drag me off to a new prison.

I cursed whichever snooping, treasonous, upstart guard had had the nerve to break his silence. Surely eavesdropping was an offence punishable by flogging…if not, it _should_ be…

I jumped like a spooked animal when the door opened, but it was only Mother.

'Why did you do it?' she asked, as if I could give her a straight answer. If only it were that simple…

'What do you want?' I demanded, dodging the question. 'Has the All-Father sent you? Is this his way of breaking the news gently?'

'No-one "sends" me anywhere, Loki.'

'Then why are you here?'

'To talk. Come, let's sit down. While we have time.'

'No. Don't pretend to be my ally. You're not going to help me. You're just going to sit back and watch like you always do,' I snapped.

'Try to understand. _Both_ of you are part of this family. We are not taking his side over yours, because _there are no sides_. We are merely – '

'Why are you saying this? Out of _concern?_ Or to rub my face in the dirt while I'm down? Do you honestly believe that I need to be _reminded_ of the fact that that _freak of nature_ has usurped my life?'

'Calm down,' she cautioned me.

'Calm down? They're coming for me!' I shouted at her. 'They're going to take me away, and you stand here telling me to be _calm!_'

'Loki,' she interrupted, her tone hardening. 'Gather yourself. Lashing out in anger will _not_ help you.'

I choked back my tirade. My mother…no, not my mother. _Never_ my mother. All she'd ever done was lie to me, and enable Odin to lie to me too. Teaching me magic, tutoring me…those had been mere bones she'd thrown me out of charity, scraps of generosity to alleviate her own guilty conscience. She'd allowed me to believe I belonged to a family, only to let that delusion be ripped away from me in the cruellest manner possible. She was just as culpable as Odin.

Slowly I stepped towards her. One step, then another, until we were face-to-face.

'Get out,' I said with as much vehemence as I could muster.

She didn't move. I could tell she was unafraid. Her eye-contact never wavered for an instant, and she stood looking up at me with that same, calm, sad smile. I hated it. I _wanted_ her to be afraid. I wanted her to feel what I felt.

'Get out!' I yelled. 'You're not welcome here.'

'Oh, Loki.' She reached up to place her hand on my cheek. 'Why must you keep on shielding yourself from me, hiding your heart? Just this once, open up to me. _Trust_ me. I'm not going to betray you. I never would…'

I do not like to remember what I did next. A wildness came over me, and grabbing her arm I endeavoured to shove her out of the room.

'I hate you,' I spat. 'Leave and never come back.'

She stumbled.

'Loki…'

'_I said get out!_' I screamed.

With all the force of my magic, I pushed her away without thinking. Frigga was flung through the doorway by the burst of energy, and her head struck the floor. I didn't even realise I'd done it until my mind cleared and I saw her lying stunned.

'Mother…'

Instinctively I moved towards her. The moment I set foot outside my cell, the guards were upon me. It was the first time in my half-year of imprisonment that I'd been treated roughly. The Einherjar manhandled me away from Frigga, bundling me back into my chambers.

'Mother! I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry – !'

I was shoved inside and the door was slammed shut upon me. I could probably have broken it down, but I knew that would only exacerbate the situation (and possibly get me killed), so I held back.

_What have I done?_ The sound of Mother's head hitting the flagstones still resounded in my ears. It couldn't have hurt her – not _that_ much – but my words alone had been injurious enough. I'd hurt her, I'd disrespected her, I'd driven her away…

I realised I was shaking again. With effort, I stilled my tremors. Summoning my self-control, I knocked on the door and called:

'Let me out. I want to see the queen.'

No response. It was as if the Einherjar were deaf to me, even though I knew they were only a few feet away…as if I didn't matter. I banged my fist harder against the door.

'Let me out! The queen and I must talk.'

I repeated the process periodically, waiting a few minutes between each attempt, hoping each time that things might've calmed down sufficiently. Deep down, I knew I had crossed a line. I would never be forgiven. Not for this. Not after I'd proven how utterly worthless a son I was.

But that wouldn't stop me from trying.

Abruptly the door opened to reveal Odin. Instantly I backed away, retreating to the opposite side of the room. A cowardly action, but one I deemed necessary to my continued survival. I wouldn't have put it past him to kill me on the spot. To my surprise, he didn't.

'I'm sorry,' I said.

'Remorse won't undo what you did.'

'I know, but…I'm sorry.'

If anything, my apologies only deepened his contempt of me. I knew he wanted to kill me. I knew he yearned to strike my traitorous head from my shoulders. But for Frigga's sake – and possibly Thor's too – he refrained.

'Is she alright?' I dared to ask. 'I didn't…hurt – ?'

'She's safe. Thor is with her.'

'May I speak to her? Just for a minute or two – '

'No. Frigga is the only reason you are still alive, and you will never see her again.'

My brain didn't register the implications of that statement at first. The concept of being wholly separated from Frigga – the one person who saw my genuine value, who loved me for who I was – was one I couldn't bear to contemplate.

'Is reconciliation out of the question?' I asked.

'You tear our family asunder and now you wish to reconcile? Perhaps you should've thought twice before spinning your thread of lies.' Odin did not even approach me, as if the mere act of being in my vicinity disgusted him. He stood in the doorway to pass sentence. 'Loki has verified your story. As promised, you now have an extra four-hundred years on your sentence. You will serve them here, in the palace.'

'You're not sending me back?' I felt a momentary glimmer of timid hope.

'No. I want you to remain here. I want you to spend your incarceration within arm's reach of your family, but unable to see us or hear us or speak to us. Close enough to taste what can never fully be yours. That is my punishment.'

I understood his reasoning with perfect clarity. He was going to torture me: not physically or in any way I could handle, but emotionally. This place would no longer be my refuge, but my cage. I would be a stranger in my own home. Disowned by the people I loved.

I would be utterly alone.

'So you're erasing me,' I said.

'No. Nothing can ever "erase" the fact that you're alive, nor the fact that you were once part of this family. But I am going to hurt you.' Odin turned his back on me and walked out.

'I wasn't lying when I said I was sorry,' I called after him. 'Tell Mother I – '

With the finality of a coffin's lid grinding into place, the door closed.

_You will never see her again_.

I was only six months into my sentence. A mere half-year was _nothing_ in comparison to the length of time that still awaited me. All my books and pastimes, all my attempts at drawing comfort from trivial things – what good were they? What good was lying to myself, pretending everything was going to be fine, when nothing would ever be the same again? There was nothing in front of me now but darkness – nothing in my future but indefinite isolation.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've been busy preparing for studies. Thank you to Nako13yeh, Fan, Sumi Anzu and PrincessAnime8 for reviewing :)**

_You will never see her again_.

I don't know how long I stood there shaking, gripped by misery. I could weather Thor and Odin's disapproval, but not Mother's. _Never_ Mother's. Guilt demanded that I do something – _anything_ – to rectify the situation. If I was never going to see Mother again, then my hateful accusations would be the last thing I ever said to her. The least I could do was let her know how sorry I was. But would Odin even allow me to speak to her? No. I didn't deserve to be spoken to or listened to. I deserved to be cast out and ignored.

_A letter. I can write her a letter_.

I rushed to my desk, fumbling for my ink-wells and quills and sheets of parchment. Even if I couldn't talk to Mother in person, I could still find a way to get a message to her.

I wrote in a hurry, my feelings and thoughts spilling out onto the page faster than I could keep up with. After several paragraphs, I realised my handwriting was barely legible, the incoherent sentences seeming to blur into one. Stopping, I stared at what I had penned. I hated it. My so-called remorse reeked of self-pity. My apologies rambled in inconclusive circles. And somehow, I always managed to place the blame at Odin's door – never at mine. These were not the words of a true penitent, but of a coward seeking to evade the consequences of his actions. Was this how I wanted Frigga to see me?

No. I wouldn't make excuses, I wouldn't try to justify my behaviour. I would keep my letter short, plain and sincere. Starting afresh on another sheet, I wrote simply:

_Mother._

_I'm sorry. I lied when I said I hated you. You've always been my mother. I love you._

_Loki_

I rolled it up very carefully, sealed it with a binding, and approached the door. I tapped cautiously upon it. No response came from the other side. I knocked louder. Still nothing. Opening the door, I was instantly confronted by a spear pointed at my face. The Einherjar were ready to cut me down if I took another step.

'It's alright.' I held up my hands. 'I'm not going anywhere. But I have a letter addressed to my mother which I would like you to deliver.' I held it towards them. 'Take it. Please.'

'You're to have no contact with Queen Frigga, by order of the king,' said one of the Einherjar dispassionately.

'I…' For a minute I stood at a loss. 'I see. Very well.'

I retreated, closing the door.

I would not be so easily dissuaded; I was still determined to reach Mother. Any drastic action was acceptable to me, as long as I was able to get my message to her. I supposed I could sneak out of my chambers. But what if Heimdall was watching me? I needed to wait for an opportune moment…a time when Heimdall's gaze would be turned elsewhere in the Nine Realms…perhaps a battle or some other calamity…

So I bided my time. After several days of inaction, I woke up one morning and finally saw what I was waiting for – the Bifröst lighting up. Somebody was leaving Asgard.

Within the hour, the guard brought me breakfast – noticeably blander and less generous than normal.

'What news from the other Realms?' I asked quickly, seizing the opportunity before he had a chance to walk away. 'How fares my brother on the battlefield?'

'There's trouble in Niflheim,' was his curt response. 'Prince Thor has travelled there to resolve the matter.'

'Marauders?'

'Yes.'

Perfect! Thor was away, and Heimdall would undoubtedly be monitoring _him_ rather than keeping an eye on _me_. After all, Odinson's life was of far more importance than mine, and I wasn't going anywhere.

The Einherjar turned to leave, armour clanking.

'Wait a moment. My head has been a nuisance lately.' I winced in mock-pain to add believability to my claim. 'I was wondering if you might go to the healer and fetch me a remedy.'

He nodded. His lack of sympathy was writ plain on his face, but to his credit, he still felt duty-bound to care for his prisoner – no matter how despised that prisoner might be.

'I wrote a list of the symptoms here – ' I pretended to fumble on my desk, playing for time.

The guard stepped closer, ready to receive whatever piece of paper I was about to hand him. Immediately I struck him with as much strength as I could muster, driving my elbow hard into his face. He fell down. Unconscious, not dead.

I cast two spells over him – one to fog his senses and cloud his memory, the other a glamour – then I dragged him onto the bed, arranged him into a position resembling sleep, and stepped back to survey my handiwork. There lay a convincing replica of myself. If Heimdall happened to check in on me, he would see nothing out of the ordinary. Just a sleeping Loki.

I cloaked myself in the Einherjar's visage, and left my chambers, heart beating fast. The other guards saw nothing amiss, and one or two of them nodded to me in silent greeting, thinking I was their friend. I nodded back and went on my way.

I knew what I had to do. I would deposit the note somewhere where Mother would find it, then return to my chambers before anyone realised I was missing, lift the glamours I'd cast, revive the guard and convince him he had suffered a random fainting spell. He would have no memory of what had transpired, and so would have no choice but to believe me.

And if I got caught, what did it matter? I was already the most loathed person in all of Asgard. Breaking one more rule could hardly hurt, could it?

Allowing nothing to distract me or delay me, I headed directly for my parents' quarters. Even though I walked in the free air, this was not freedom. Knowing how short-lived my liberty would be, I could find no enjoyment or sense of self-congratulation in it.

Wary, I crept closer to my destination, until I was standing outside the arched doorway to Mother's bed-chamber. Within, I could hear Mother talking softly. I hesitated. Who was she talking to? Odin? If Odin was in there, he would sense my presence and see through my illusion immediately. With my heart pounding in my throat, I inched closer to the archway and peered through.

Mother was standing with her back to me, talking to The Other Loki. I froze in shock before realising it was nothing more than a hologram – flickering, outlined in gold and green light.

'I don't understand,' he was saying, 'What's changed? The All-Father asked a lot of questions, but refused to explain anything to me. Has something happened?'

'Yes, something…something has happened. I wish it were not so, but…Loki has fallen back into his old ways.'

'So you finally admit it,' the hologram snorted. 'After all this time, you _finally_ have no choice but to face the truth. What opened your eyes?'

'We confronted him with his deception, and he confessed everything. I went to talk to him, to try and calm him down, but we…argued.'

'And he hurt your feelings. Of course. _Of course_ it wasn't _my_ suffering that compelled Odin to take action – it was _yours_. How typical.' He paused. 'What did he do, exactly?'

Mother hesitated. Didn't reply.

'Did he hurt you?' my doppelgänger demanded. Her silence spoke volumes. His face twisted in anger. 'I knew it. I _knew_ it…'

I shifted position, straining for a better viewpoint. Hearing my footstep, Mother whirled around, the holographic Loki dissipating behind her.

'Who's there?' she called.

I fled. My courage failed me. The thought of facing her, of confronting the reality of the pain I'd caused her, was unbearable.

My letter remained undelivered as I retraced my steps with all haste, almost forgetting that I was in disguise until I realised I was in danger of blowing my cover. Slowing to a steady pace and relaxing my facial muscles into a neutral expression, I managed to walk the final stretch into my chambers. Alone except for the unconscious guard, I crumpled the worthless note and flung it aside.

No. I wouldn't give up. I would find another way.


End file.
